Sir  Christopher 


1 


Sir  Christopher 

A  Romance   of  a   Maryland 
Manor   in    1 6  A  A 

BY 

MAUD    WILDER   GOODWIN 

Author  of  "The  Head  of  a  Hundred/1  "White  Aprons," 
"The  Colonial  Cavalier,"  etc. 

Illustrated  by 
HOWARD  PYLE,  AND  OTHER  ARTISTS 


Boston 

Little,   Brown,  and  Company 
1901 


Copyright,  1901, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 


All  rights  reserved 
Entered  at  Stationers'   Hall 


UNIVERSITY    PRESS     •      JOHN  WILSON 
AND    SON      •      CAMBRIDGE,     U.S.A. 


TO 
BLANCHE   WILDER    BELLAMY 

AND 

FREDERICK  PUTNAM   BELLAMY 


Preface 

ON  a  bluff  of  the  Maryland  coast  stand  a 
church,  a  school,  a  huddle  of  gravestones, 
and  an  obelisk  raised  to  the  memory  of  Leonard 
Calvert.  These  alone  mark  the  site  of  St.  Mary's, 
once  the  capital  of  the  Palatinate. 

It  is  near  this  little  town,  about  the  middle  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  that  my  story  begins, 
among  the  feuds  then  raging  between  Catholic 
and  Protestant,  Cavalier  and  Roundhead,  Mary- 
lander  and  Virginian.  The  Virginians  of  that 
day  were  but  a  generation  removed  from  the 
pioneers  who  suffered  in  the  massacre  of  1622; 
and  the  sons  and  daughters  of  those  early  settlers 
whose  lives  were  traced  in  "The  Head  of  a 
Hundred "  *  appear  in  the  present  romance. 

The  adventures  of  Romney  fluntoon,  of  the 
Brents,  and,  most  of  all,  of  Christopher  Neville 
and  Elinor  Calvert,  furnish  the  material  of  my 
story ;  but  I  venture  to  hope  that  the  reader  will 
feel  beneath  the  incidents  and  adventures  that 
throbbing  of  the  human  heart  which  has  chiefly 
interested  me. 

*  Published  1895. 


Vll 


Contents 


CHAPTER 

I.     ROBIN  HOOD'S  BARN i 

II.     ST.   GABRIEL'S  AND  ST.  INIGO'S 16 

III.  BLESSING  AND  BANNING 34 

IV.  THE  LORD  OF  THE  MANOR 49 

V.     PEGGY 7* 

VI.     THE  KING'S  ARMS 9° 

VII.     IN  GOOD  GREEN  WOOD 108 

VIII.     A  CLUE 13° 

IX.    A  REQUIEM  MASS 144 

X.     THE  ORDEAL  BY  TOUCH 159 

XL     THE  GREATER  LOVE 172 

XII.     How  LOVERS  ARE  CONVINCED 180 

XIII.  A  CHANGE  OF  VENUE 196 

XIV.  IN  WHICH  FATE  TAKES  THE  HELM       .     .     .     .  215 
XV.     DIGITUS  DEI 223 

XVI.     LIFE  OR  DEATH 240 

XVII.     ROMNEY 256 

XVIII.     THE  EMERALD  TAG 274 

XIX.     THE  ROLLING  YEAR 292 

XX.      A    BlRTHNIGHT    BALL 309 

ix 


Contents     v 

CHAPTER  PACK 

XXL     A  ROOTED  SORROW 334 

XXII.     CANDLEMAS  EVE .'  354 

XXIII.  "  HEY  FOR    ST.    MARY'S,    AND    WIVES    FOR    us 

ALL  I'1 370 

XXIV.  THE  CALVERT  MOTTO 392 


Illustrations 


" '  Let  me  go  to  him  ! '  she  shrieked,  in  her  anguish 

of  soul  " Frontispiece 

From  a  draiving  by  Hoivard  Pyle 

<"  Stretch  out  thy  rod,  Cecil'  " Page     58 

From  a  draiving  by  James  E.  McBurnty 

"'You  are  quite  a  courtier,  Master  Huntoon''       .        "      116 

From  a  draiving  by  S.  M.  Palmer 

t((  This  is  love  indeed ''          "      194 

From  a  draiving  by  S.  M,  Arthurs 

*'  He  sang  to  the  music  of  his  Jute,  and  she  to  the 

accompaniment  of  her  whirring  wheel "      .        "      301 

From  a  draiving  by  S.  M.  Palmer 

"  '  As  it  is,  I  am  satisfied.      Go!'"       ....        "      390 

From  a  draiving  by  James  E.  McBurney 


SIR    CHRISTOPHER 


CHAPTER   I     ,    , 

ROBIN    HOOD'S    BARN 

THROUGH  the  January  twilight  a  sail 
boat  steered  its  course  by  the  light  of 
a  fire  which   blazed  high  in  the  throat 
of  the  chimney  at  St.  Gabriel's  Manor.     Within 
the    hall,   circled   by   the   light   from  the    fire,  a 
Danish  hound  stretched  its   lazy  length  on  the 
floor,  and,  pillowing  his  head  against  the  dog's 
body,  lay  a  boy  eight  or  nine  years  old. 

He  was  a  plain  laddie,  with  a  freckled  nose, 
a  wide  mouth,  and  round  apple  cheeks  over 
which  flaxen  curls  tumbled  in  confusion.  His 
big  eyes,  the  redeeming  feature  of  the  face, 
were  just  now  fixed  upon  the  shadows  cast  by 
the  motion  of  his  joined  hands  on  the  wall.  At 
length  the  lips  parted  over  a  row  of  baby  teeth 
with  a  gap  in  the  centre,  through  which  the  little 
tongue  showed  blood-red,  as  the  boy  laughed 
long  and  loud. 

"Thee,  Knut ! "  he  lisped,  with  that  occa 
sional  slip  of  the  letter  s  which  was  a  lingering 
trick  of  babyhood  and  cost  him  much  shame, 


Sir  Christopher 

"is  not  that  broad-shouldered  shadow  like 
Couthin  Giles  ?  And  the  tall  one,  —  why,  't  is 
the  very  image  of  Father  Mohl !  And  the 
short  one  ith  :Couthin  Mary.  Look  how  she 
bows  as  sh"e:  goes  before  the  father  !•  And  what 
a -'fine  cowl  J  hare  made  of  my  kerchief!'* 

Unconscious  of  observation  as  the  boy  was,  he 
was  being  closely  watched  from  two  directions. 
In  the  shadow  of  the  settle  by  the  fire  sat  a  ton 
sured  priest,  holding  before  him  a  breviary  over 
the  top  of  which  he  was  contemplating  the  boy 
on  the  floor ;  opposite  the  priest,  on  the  landing 
of  the  stairs,  a  woman  leaned  on  the  balustrade, 
following  with  absorbed  interest  every  movement 
of  the  chubby  hands,  and  every  expression  of  the 
childish  face,  which  bore  a  burlesqued  resemblance 
to  her  own.  After  a  moment  the  woman  gathered 
her  skirts  closer  about  her  and  stealing  down  the 
winding  stair,  crept  up  behind  the  boy  and  clasped 
both  hands  playfully  over  his  eyes. 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  she  asked  gaily. 

"  Mother  ! "  cried  the  child,  wrenching  himself 
free  only  to  jump  up  and  throw  himself  into  the 
arms  outstretched  to  receive  him.  "  Didst  fancy 
I  was  like  to  mithtake  thy  hands  ?  "  he  asked. 
"No,  faith!  Father  Mohl's  hands  are  long  and 
cold,  and  Couthin  Mary's  fingers  are  stiff  and  hard, 
no  more  like  to  thine  than  a  potato  to  a  puff-ball." 

"  Hush,  Cecil !     Hush,  little  ingrate  !  "  whis- 


Robin  Hood's  Barn 

pered  the  mother,  clapping  her  hands  this  time 
over  his  lips.  "I  would  not  thy  Cousin  Mary 
heard  that  speech  for  a  silver  crown."  Never 
theless,  she  smiled. 

Elinor  Calvert,  as  she  stood  there  with  one 
hand  on  her  son's  shoulder  and  the  other  bend 
ing  back  his  face,  looked  like  some  sunshiny 
goddess.  Her  dress  well  became  her  height. 
She  wore  a  long  petticoat  of  figured  -damask, 
beneath  a  robe  of  green  stuff.  Her  bodice,  long 
and  pointed,  fitted  the  figure  closely,  and  the 
flowing  sleeves  of  green  silk  fell  back  from  round 
white  arms.  Around  her  neck  was  a  string  of 
pearls,  bearing  a  heart-shaped  miniature  set  also 
in  pearls,  and  held  to  the  left  side  of  her  bodice 
by  a  brooch  of  diamonds.  Her  figure  was  tall, 
and  crowned  by  a  head  nobly  proportioned  and 
upheld  by  a  white  pillar  of  throat.  Her  features 
were  heavily  moulded,  especially  the  lips  and 
chin.  The  golden  hair  which  swept  her  brow 
softened  its  marked  width,  yet  the  impression 
conveyed  by  the  face  might  have  been  cold  had 
it  not  been  for  the  softness  of  the  eyes  under 
their  fringe  of  dark  lashes. 

In  spite  of  the  flashes  of  gaiety  which  marked 
her  intercourse  with  her  son,  the  prevailing  ex 
pression  of  Mistress  Calvert's  face  was  sad. 
Rumor  said  that  there  was  enough  to  account 
for  this  in  the  story  of  her  brief  married  life  in 

3 


Sir  Christopher 

England,  for  Churchill  Calvert  was  a  spendthrift 
and  a  gambler,  who  died  leaving  his  widow  with 
her  little  son  a  year  old,  and  no  other  support 
than  the  income  of  a  slender  dowry. 

In  those  dark  days  of  her  early  widowhood 
Elinor  received  a  letter  from  her  husband's  kins 
man,  Lord  Baltimore. 

"  I  know  your  pride  too  well,"  he  wrote,  "  to 
offer  you  any  help  ;  but  you  must  not  deny  my 
right  to  provide  for  my  godson.  Money  with 
me  is  scarce,  but  land  is  plenty,  and  I  offer  you 
in  Cecil's  name  a  grant  of  seven  thousand  acres 
in  Maryland.  It  is  covered  with  virgin  forest. 
Like  the  old  outlaw  you  must  needs  store  your 
grain  in  caves  and  stable  your  horses  and  cattle 
under  the  trees ;  wherefore  I  shall  counsel  Cecil 
to  name  his  manor  Robin  Hood's  Earn.  Should 
you  be  willing  to  remove  thither,  make  up 
your  mind  speedily,  for  at  the  sailing  of  a  ship 
now  in  harbor,  our  cousins  the  Brents  start  for 
the  new  world,  and  would  rejoice  to  have  you 
and  Cecil  in  their  keeping." 

Baltimore  was  right  in  foreseeing  the  struggle 
in  Elinor's  mind  between  pride  and  love  for  her 
child ;  but  he  was  also  right  in  predicting  that 
love  would  triumph,  and  Elinor  thanked  him 
and  Heaven  daily  for  this  asylum,  where  her  boy 
could  grow  up  safe  from  the  temptations  of  Lon 
don  which  had  wrecked  his  father's  life. 


Robin  Hood's  Barn 

As  she  bent  over  Cecil  to-night,  her  heart  was 
full  of  contending  emotions.  She  and  her  boy 
were  safely  sheltered  under  the  roof  of  her  dear 
cousin,  Mary  Brent,  Cecil  would  soon  be  old 
enough  to  take  possession  of  the  manor  at  Cecil 
Point,  the  future  was  apparently  bright  with 
promise;  yet  she  was  conscious  of  some  unsatis 
fied  hunger  of  the  heart,  and,  deeper  than  that, 
of  a  sense  of  some  impending  grief;  but  she 
was  a  woman  of  shaken  nerves  easily  sunk  in 
melancholy. 

"Hark!"  cried  Cecil,  suddenly  pulling  him 
self  away  from  his  mother's  arms,  —  "I  hear  the 
sound  of  footsteps  outside."  At  the  same  mo 
ment  Mary  Brent  came  slipping  down  the  stairs. 

"  Elinor,"  she  said  with  a  little  nervousness, 
"  Giles  was  expecting  a  friend  to-night." 

"  Ah  ?  "  said  Elinor,  indifferently. 

"  Yes;  't  is  a  pity  he  was  called  to  St.  Mary's  in 
such  haste,  for  the  friend  comes  on  business." 

"  Perchance  he  may  tarry  till  Giles  returns." 

"  I  hope  so,  —  but,  Elinor,  —  this  business 
concerns  thee." 

"Mel" 

(C  Ay,  the  new-comer  is  one  who  would  fain 
have  a  lease  of  the  manor  at  Cecil  Point." 

"  Robin  Hood's  Barn  ?  Now,  Mary,  have  I 
not  told  thee  and  Giles  that  I  would  hear  of  no 
such  plan?  I  am  a  woman  of  affairs  and  can  well 

5 


Sir  Christopher 


manage  till  Cecil  is  old  enough  to  take  control. 
Another  six  months  we  shall  rest  under  your 
roof,  —  then,  dear  cousin,  we  must  be  gone  to 
our  own." 

Mary  Brent  laid  her  hand  upon  the  younger 
woman's  arm. 

"Vex  me  not,  Elinor,"  she  said,  "by  speaking 
so.  Let  it  be  settled  that  this  is  your  home. 
'Tis  not  kind  to  talk  of  leaving  me.  Besides, 
you  could  not  live  upon  your  lands  without  an 
arm  to  protect  you,  stout  enough  for  defence  and 
for  toil." 

"  We  will  hire  laborers." 

"  Common  laborers  are  not  enough.  There 
must  be  a  man  with  head  to  direct  as  well  as 
hands  to  work." 

Cecil,  who  had  stood  by  an  eager  listener,  sud 
denly  stripped  up  the  sleeve  of  his  jerkin  and 
bared  his  arm. 

"  Feel  that !  "  he  cried,  doubling  his  elbow  till 
the  muscle  stood  out.  Mary  Brent  laughed  as 
she  laid  her  hand  upon  it. 

"Truly,  'tis  a  pretty  muscle.  Yet  will  it  be 
better  for  a  few  more  years  of  growth.  Say, 
Elinor,  wilt  thou  take  this  man  for  thy  tenant  ? 
Giles  has  left  the  lease  already  drawn  for  thee,  as 
Cecil's  guardian,  to  sign  when  thou  hast  settled 
terms  with  the  man.  Giles  says  he  is  as  fine  a 
fellow  as  hath  yet  set  foot  in  Maryland.  He  is 


Robin  Hood's  Barn 

a  gentleman,  moreover,  and  hath  a  title,  having 
been  knighted  for  gallant  service  in  that  ill-fated 
Cadiz  expedition  some  years  since." 

"Who  is  the  man  ?  " 

"  Neville  is  his  name,  Sir  Christopher  Neville." 

"Christopher  Neville! "repeated  Elinor, slowly, 
but  the  shuffling  of  snow-covered  feet  upon  the 
stepping-stones  outside  put  an  end  to  further 
speech.  Knut  began  to  bark. 

"  Give  over  barking,  thou  naughty  dog  !  Hie 
away  to  the  kitchen  and  make  way  for  thy  bet 
ters  ! "  said  Mary  Brent,  making  a  feint  at  taking 
down  a  stick  from  over  the  fireplace.  The  dog 
continued  barking,  and  Cecil  began  to  laugh. 

"  Hush,  Cecil,"  said  his  mother ;  "  where  are 
thy  manners  ?  Make  haste  to  open  the  door!  " 

Cecil  ran  to  the  door  and  flinging  it  wide 
let  in  a  great  gust  of  wind.  The  light  from 
within  fell  upon  a  man  wrapped  in  a  heavy  cloak 
and  wearing  a  broad-brimmed  cavalier  hat  with 
plumes  at  the  side. 

"  Come  in,  good  thir  !  "  cried  Cecil,  "  before 
you  are  frozen  stiff; "  and  he  led  the  way  to  the 
fire,  before  which  Mary  Brent  stood  with  out 
stretched  hand  of  welcome. 

"  My  brother  Giles  is  called  to  St.  Mary's  ;  but 
he  left  a  welcome  for  you,  and  bade  us  keep  you 
without  fail  till  his  return." 

The    new-comer    bowed    low    above    Mistress 


Sir  Christopher 

Brent's  hand.  He  was  a  tall,  plain  man,  ap 
proaching  middle  age,  with  keen  eyes,  and  dents 
in  his  face  as  if  Time  had  nicked  it  with  his 
sickle.  Around  his  firm-set  mouth,  hovered  a 
smile  that  had  summered  and  wintered  many 
disappointments. 

"  Elinor,  let  me  make  Sir  Christopher  Neville 
known  to  thee  !  My  cousin,  Elinor  Calvert,  Sir 
Christopher,  the  mistress  of  Cecil  Point." 

With  this,  Elinor,  who  had  stood  still  as  a 
statue,  moved  slowly  forward  and  held  out  her 
hand.  Neville  kissed  it. 

The  priest  who  had  sat  in  the  shadow  of  the 
settle,  a  silent  observer  of  the  scene  before  him, 
rose,  now  that  all  eyes  were  turned  toward  the 
stranger,  and  glided  quietly  out  at  the  further 
doorway,  murmuring,  "  Suscipiat  Dominus  sacrifi- 
cium  de  manibus  meis  ad  laudem  et  gloriam  nominis 
sui!" 

"  Come,  Cecil !  "  said  Mary  Brent.  "  Let  us 
make  ready  the  hot  posset.  I  have  the  ale  on 
the  fire  a-heating  and  the  milk  and  sugar  and 
spices  ready,  and  with  a  sippet  of  bread  't  is 
wonderful  sustaining.  Sir  Christopher,  you  will 
find  its  sting  comforting  after  your  long  journey." 

As  she  drew  the  child  after  her  she  whispered 
to  Elinor,  "  To  business,  Cousin  !  Tell  him  he 
may  have  the  manor  for  the  clearing  of  the  land 
and  half  the  harvest!  " 

8 


Robin  Hood's  Barn 

The  door  closed  behind  her.  Elinor  Calvert 
and  Christopher  Neville  stood  looking  at  each 
other  across  the  width  of  the  fireplace.  A  long 
silence  followed,  broken  at  last  by  Elinor's  impul 
sive  speech. 

"  Why  art  thou  come  hither  ?  " 

"  Maryland  is  free  to  all." 

"  Why  dost  thou  seek  to  become  my  tenant? " 

cc  I  have  a  fancy  for  the  land  at  Cecil  Point." 

"  Thy  answers  ring  false.  Tell  me  the  real 
reason  in  a  word." 

"  As  well  in  one  word  as  in  a  thousand,  since 
the  word  is  Thou" 

The  flush  mounted  to  Elinor  Calvert's  brow 
and  she  stood  playing  with  the  tassels  of  her 
girdle,  finding  nothing  to  say  in  answer. 

"  Yes,"  Neville  went  on,  "  for  thy  sake  I  am 
come  hither  out  of  England.  For  thy  sake  I 
came  this  night  that  I  might  have  speech  of  thee. 
For  this  reason  I  would  fain  be  thy  tenant,  that 
I  might  add  one  strong  arm  for  thy  defence  in 
the  dangers  which  threaten." 

"  Thou  art  a  friend  indeed." 

"  Ay,  a  true  friend,  since  thou  wilt  have  me  for 
naught  beyond.  It  is  ten  years  since  I  asked 
thee  wouldst  thou  have  me  for  a  husband,  and 
thou  didst  deny  me,  and  wed  Calvert.  For  four 
years  I  strove  as  an  honest  man  should  to  put 
thee  out  of  my  mind.  I  was  fain  to  believe  I  had 

9 


Sir  Christopher 

succeeded,  when  the  news  of  thy  freedom  reached 
me ;  then  the  old  love  I  had  counted  dead  rose 
up  stronger  than  ever,  rose  up  out  of  the  grave 
where  I  had  laid  it  as  in  a  trance,  rose  up  and 
bade  me  never  again  cheat  myself  into  the  belief 
that  I  and  it  could  be  put  asunder." 

The  man  paused  for  breath,  so  shaken  was  he 
by  the  force  of  his  passion. 

Elinor  Calvert  looked  at  him  in  terror,  unable 
to  break  by  word  or  movement  the  spell  under 
which  he  held  her.  He  made  a  stride  closer,  and 
grasped  her  hand. 

"What  stands  between  us?  "  he  asked,  holding 
her  eyes  with  his,  those  penetrating  eyes  that  had 
the  power  to  pierce  all  disguises,  to  rend  all 
shams  to  tatters,  "  Norse  een  like  grey  gos 
hawks."  Most  eyes  only  look  —  Neville's  saw, 
The  woman  before  him  felt  evasions  impossible, 
subterfuges  of  no  avail. 

"  Your  faith,"  she  answered. 

"  You  cared  a  little  for  me,  then,  in  the  old 
days  ?  " 

"  I  did,"  she  answered,  like  one  in  a  trance 
bending  to  the  will  of  the  questioner.  As  she 
spoke  she  unconsciously  laid  her  hand  upon  the 
diamond  crescent  at  her  breast. 

His  eyes  followed  her  motion  and  he  colored 
high,  for  he  saw  that  it  was  the  brooch  he  had 
sent  her  at  her  marriage.  She  saw  that  he  saw, 


10 


Robin  Hood's  Barn 

and  she  too  blushed,  a  painful  blush  that  stained 
her  face  crimson  and  ran  up  to  lose  itself  in  the 
shadow  of  her  hair. 

"  I  know  who  have  stood  in  the  way  of  thy 
loving  me ;  but  let  them  no  longer  come  between 
thee  and  me,  or  their  tonsured  heads'  shall  answer 
for  it  to  my  sword." 

Elinor  frowned,  and  Neville  saw  that  he  was 
endangering  his  cause. 

"  Forgive  my  impetuous  speech !  "  said  he. 
<c  Forget  that  the  words  were  spoken." 

"  I  cannot." 

If  Elinor  had  told  the  whole  truth  she  would 
have  added,  "  I  do  not  wish  to." 

"  Then  at  least  put  them  aside  and  deal  with 
me  in  cold  business  terms  as  though  we  were  the 
strangers  thy  cousins  believe  us  to  be.  Wilt  thou 
have  me  for  thy  tenant  on  shares  —  three  quarters 
of  the  harvest  to  go  to  thee  and  one  quarter  to 
me?" 

"Tenant  of  mine  thou  shalt  never  be.  I 
could  not  be  so  unfair,  to  let  thee  give  thy  life 
for  me  and  get  nothing  in  return  !  " 

"  To  let  me  do  the  thing  I  have  set  my  heart 
on  and  get  in  return  a  sight  of  thee  once  in  the 
year.  That  is  to  make  one  three-hundred-and 
sixty-fifth  of  every  year  blessed." 

"  My  tenant,"  said  Elinor,  slowly,  "  thou  canst 
not  be." 

n 


Sir  Christopher 

Neville  bent  his  head. 
"But  —  " 

"  Blessed  be  but —  !      But  what  ?  " 

«  But—  perhaps  —  Cecil's." 

"  Ay,  that  is  better ! "  said  Neville,  smiling  a 
little;  "that" will  be  best,  for  then  there  will  be 
no  favor  on  either  side,  and  as  the  lad  grows 
older  he  and  I  can  deal  together  as  man  to 


man." 


"  Oh,  it  is  such  a  relief  to  my  mind  !  "  sighed 
Elinor. 

"  And  to  mine,"  quoth  Neville. 

"  It  is  not  the  same  thing  as  being  my  tenant  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all  —  quite  different.  And  thou  wilt 
come  with  Cecil  to  see  how  the  land  fares  from 
time  to  time  ?  " 

"  Why,  that  were  but  business." 

"  Truly  to  do  aught  else  were  treason  to  thy 
son's  interest,  and  by  and  by  when  the  house  is 
built  and  the  title  of  Robin  Hood's  Barn  suits 
the  manor  no  more,  thou  and  he  will  come  to  visit 
me  there  ? " 

"That  could  not  be  —  " 

"  No,  I  feared  that  was  asking  too  much," 
Neville  said  humbly,  "  but  at  least  thou  wilt  let 
me  have  the  boy  ?  " 

"  How  good  thou  art !  " 

"  Good!  —  I  to  thee?  Shall  I  tell  thee  whose 
picture  dwells  in  my  soul  by  day  and  night, 


12 


Robin  Hood's  Barn 

Elinor  ?  "  There  was  a  curious  vibration  in 
Neville's  voice,  as  if  memory  were  pulling  out 
the  stops  of  an  organ. 

"  Ay,  tell  me,"  said  Elinor,  tremulously,  in  a 
voice  scarce  above  a  whisper. 

"  'T  is  that  of  a  girl  in  a  robe  of  green  like  the 
one  thou  wearest  this  night  —  ay,  and  floating 
sleeves  like  thine,  whereby  she  caught  the  name 
she  bears  in  my  heart." 

A  softness  stole  into  Elinor's  eyes  and  the 
flush  of  girlhood  rose  to  her  cheek. 

"  Ah,"  Neville  went  on.  "  Dost  thou  remem 
ber  that  day  in  the  Somerset  wood,  and  how  I 
gave  thee  the  name  of  Lady  Greensleeves,  and 
how  I  sang  thee  the  dear  old  ballad,  thou  sitting 
on  the  stone  wall  and  I  leaning  against  the  great 
chestnut-tree  ?  " 

"Nay,  'twas  not  a  chestnut  —  'twas  an  oak, 
for  I  do  recall  the  acorns  that  lay  about  thy  feet 
as  I  listened  with  my  eyes  cast  down." 

"And  I  stood  looking  at  thy  lashes,  scarce 
knowing  whether  I  would  have  them  lift  or  not, 
as  they  lay  against  the  rose  of  thy  cheek." 

"  How  long  ago  it  all  was  !  "  sighed  Elinor. 

"  Yet  when  thou  dost  speak  and  look  like  that 
it  seems  but  yesterday.  Oh,  my  dearest  —  " 

Neville,  carried  beyond  his  prudence,  drew 
nearer  and  was  about  to  fall  upon  his  knees  be 
fore  her,  when  he  saw  the  door  open  to  admit 

13 


Sir  Christopher 

Mistress  Brent,  followed  by  a  servant  bearing  a 
steaming  bowl  of  posset. 

How  much  of  his  speech  had  been  overheard, 
he  knew  not.  Manlike  he  found  it  hard  to  steer 
his  bark  in  an  instant  from  deep  waters  into 
the  shallows  of  conversation  ;  but  Elinor  took 
the  helm  and  dashed  into  the  safe  channel. 

"  Mary,  thou  art  come  in  good  time  to  help 
me  to  argue  terms  with  a  too  generous  tenant." 

Mary  Brent  came  forward  smiling,  but  a  little 
bewildered. 

Elinor  took  the  goblets  from  the  tray  and  filled 
them  with  the  posset.  "Drink  !"  she  cried  gaily. 
"  Drink  both  of  you  to  the  prosperity  of  Cecil 
Manor,  and  I  will  drink  a  health  to  Cecil's  tenant, 
Sir  Christopher  Neville/' 

With  this,  she  swept  a  deep  courtesy,  and  rising, 
clinked  her  goblet  against  Neville's. 

At  the  same  moment  Cecil  burst  upon  them 
from  the  stairs,  his  golden  curls  topped  by  Mas 
ter  Neville's  brown  cavalier  hat,  and  the  heavy 
cloak  sweeping  the  floor  after  him  as  he  walked. 

"  Good  evening,  madam  !  "  he  cried,  sweeping 
off  his  hat  before  Mary  Brent  with  a  droll  imita 
tion  of  Neville's  manner. 

"Small  boys,"  said  Elinor,  "wax  bold  as  bed 
hour  draws  near.  Ask  pardon  of  Sir  Christopher 
and  be  off  to  thy  bed." 

"  Thou  wilt  come  with  me  ?  " 


Robin  Hood's  Barn 

"  Not  to-night,  sweetheart ;  we  have  a  guest — " 

<c  Guest  or  no  guest,  I  go  not  without  thee," 
cried  the  child.  "  'T  is  the  first  time  since  our 
coming  thou  didst  ever  deny  me.  I  should  lie 
awake  and  see  bogies  an  thou  didst  not  tuck 
in  the  counterpane  about  me  with  thine  own 
hands." 

"  I  pray  thee,"  said  Neville,  under  his  breath, 
"  grant  the  boy  his  wish.  Let  not  his  acquaint 
ance  and  mine  begin  with  misliking." 

At  this,  Cecil,  who  till  now  had  hung  back  and 
glowered  at  the  stranger  from  behind  his  mothers 
skirts,  came  forward  with  the  grace  of  the  Calvert 
line,  and  stretching  out  his  hand  frankly  to 
Neville,  said  :  "  I  thank  you,  thir ;  I  am  glad  you 
are  come  to  stay  with  us."  As  his  mother  led 
him  away  to  bed  he  turned  on  the  landing  and 
kissed  his  hand  to  the  new-comer.  Then,  with  a 
sudden  relapse  into  the  barbarism  of  childhood, 
he  dropped  on  hands  and  knees  and  climbed  the 
remaining  stairs  in  that  fashion  —  growling  like  a 
wolf  as  he  went.  Ten  minutes  later  the  group 
in  the  hall  heard  him  chanting  an  evening  hymn, 
and  his  voice  had  the  high,  unearthly  sweetness, 
the  clear,  angelic  note  of  those  who  stand  before 
the  Throne. 


CHAPTER   II 

ST.   GABRIEL'S  AND   ST.   INIGO'S 

WHEN    Elinor    returned    from    Cecil's 
bedside,   Neville    detected    traces    of 
weeping  in  the  flush  of  her  cheek  and 
the  heaviness  of  her  eyelids  ;  but  her  manner  was 
gracious    and   marked  by  a  gaiety  which  would 
have  led  one  who  did  not  know  her  well  to  be 
lieve  that   she   was  as   light-hearted  as   the   boy 
upstairs. 

The  candles  on  the  supper-table  shone  on  a 
strangely  assorted  group.  At  the  head  of  the 
board  sat  Mistress  Brent.  She  was  a  demure 
little  lady,  like  a  sleek  white  cat,  full  of  domestic 
impulses,  clinging  to  her  hearthstone  and  purring 
away  life,  content  to  rub  against  the  feet  of  those 
whom  she  counted  her  superiors.  Her  placid 
face  beamed  with  joy  at  the  thought  that  her  roof 
was  found  worthy  to  shelter  the  holy  Fathers 
from  St.  Inigo's.  Yet,  even  as  she  rejoiced,  she 
remembered  with  some  misgivings  a  conversation 
she  had  held  with  her  brother  Giles  before  his 
setting  out.  "  Mary,"  he  had  said,  "  it  is 

16 


St.  Gabriel's  and  St.  Inigo's 

rumored  throughout  the  province  that  thy  house 
is  headquarters  for  the  Jesuits.'* 

"  Brother,"  she  had  answered,  "  my  house  is 
open  to  all  who  seek  its  shelter,  and  shall  I  shut 
its  doors  to  the  priests  of  our  Holy  Church? " 

"  There  is  no  arguing  with  women,"  her  brother 
had  said,  with  a  testy  shrug  of  his  shoulders. 
"  Thou  must  needs  turn  every  question  of  policy 
into  an  affair  of  pious  sentiment.  Baltimore  is 
as  good  a  Catholic  as  thou  ;  but  he  is  first  of  all 
an  Englishman,  and  second,  the  ruler  of  this  prov 
ince,  wherein  he  hath  promised  fair  play  to  men 
of  all  creeds  ;  and  he  will  not  have  the  reins  of 
control  wrenched  from  his  hands  by  the  Jesuits, 
who  hold  themselves  free  of  the  common  law, 
and  answerable  to  none  but  the  tribunals  of  the 
Church." 

"  I  know  naught  of  questions  of  policy,  Giles, 
as  thou  sayst ;  but  while  I  have  a  roof  over  my 
head,  I  will  take  for  the  motto  of  my  house  the 
words  of  Scripture :  c  Knock,  and  it  shall  be 
opened  unto  you/  ' 

When  this  motto  is  posted  over  the  lintel  there 
will  never  be  a  lack  of  footmarks  on  the  thresh 
old.  Many  were  the  guests  who  came  to  try  the 
hospitality  of  St.  Gabriel's  Manor,  and  no  visitors 
were  more  frequent  than  the  Jesuits,  those  brave 
men  who  for  the  sake  of  their  faith  had  crossed 
the  sea,  braved  the  perils  of  the  wilderness,  and 
2  17 


Sir  Christopher 

planted  a  mission  near  St.  Mary's  which  they 
christened  St.  Inigo's. 

On  Mary  Brent's  right  hand  this  evening  sat 
one  of  these  priests,  Father  White,  whose  shrewd 
eyes  shone  with  love  to  God  and  man,  whose 
heart  yearned  over  the  sinner  as  it  bowed  before 
the  saint,  and  whose  life  was  at  the  service  of  the 
order  of  Ignatius  Loyola.  His  features  were 
delicately  cut,  and  the  skin  of  a  transparency  which 
recalled  the  alabaster  columns  at  San  Marco  with 
the  light  shining  through  them.  So  translucent 
to  the  soul  behind  seemed  his  fragile  frame. 

His  mulatto  servant,  Francisco,  stood  at  the 
back  of  his  chair  and  ministered  to  his  wants  with 
loving  care. 

Opposite  Father  White  sat  Christopher  Neville, 
and  one  at  least  of  the  company  found  him  good 
to  look  upon,  despite  his  square  jaw  and  the  sabre- 
cut  over  the  left  eye.  But  for  the  particularity 
of  his  dress  he  might  have  conveyed  the  impres 
sion  of  rude  strength,  but  his  black  velvet  doublet 
fitted  close  and  gave  elegance  to  the  heavily  built 
figure,  and  the  shirt  that  broke  out  above  the 
waist  was  adorned  with  hand-wrought  ruffles  of 
an  exquisite  fineness. 

Notwithstanding  his  plainness,  his  personality 
carried  conviction.  The  whole  man  made  himself 
felt  in  the  direct  glance  and  the  firm  hand-clasp. 
His  words,  too,  had  a  stirring  quality.  People 

18 


St.  Gabriel's  and  St.  Inigo's 

differed,  disputed,  denounced ;  but  they  always 
listened.  He  often  roused  antagonism,  but  sel 
dom  irritation.  It  is  not  those  who  oppose,  but 
those  who  fail  to  comprehend,  who  exasperate, 
and  Neville  had  above  all  the  gift  of  comprehen 
sion.  Yet  with  this  intellectual  perception  was 
combined  a  singular  imperviousness  to  social 
atmosphere.  So  that  in  his  presence  one  had 
often  the  feeling  of  being  a  piece  of  china  in  a 
bull  pasture ;  but,  in  his  wildest  assault,  the 
slightest  droop  of  the  lip,  the  faintest  appeal  for 
sympathy  reduced  him  to  the  gentleness  of  a 
lamb. 

"  I  would  he  were  of  our  communion,"  thought 
Father  White,  studying  him. 

Near  Neville  sat  a  younger  priest,  the  same 
who  had  watched  Elinor  Calvert  and  her  son  from 
the  shadow  of  the  settle.  His  aspect  was  more 
humble  than  that  of  his  superior.  He  bowed 
lower  as  he  passed  the  crucifix  rudely  fastened  to 
the  chimney  breast ;  his  eyes  were  seldomer  raised, 
and  he  mumbled  more  scraps  of  Latin  over  his 
food ;  but  all  this  outward  show  of  holiness 
failed  to  convince.  It  was  like  the  smell  of  musk 
which  hints  of  less  desirable  scents,  to  be  over 
powered  rather  than  cleansed.  His  narrow  gray 
eyes,  cast  down  as  they  were,  found  opportunity 
to  scrutinize  Elinor  Calvert  closely  as  she  sat  by 
the  side  of  Neville.  Set  a  man,  a  priest,  and  a 

19 


Sir  Christopher 

woman  to  watch  each  other  —  the  priest  will 
catch  the  man  ;  but  the  woman  will  catch  the 
priest. 

"  Prithee  try  this  wine,  Father !  "  said  Mary 
Brent  to  the  venerable  priest  on  her  right,  hold 
ing  toward  him  a  cup  of  sparkling  red-brown 
wine.  "'Tis  made  in  our  own  press  from  the 
wild  grapes  that  grow  hereabout,  and  Giles  has 
christened  it  c  St.  Gabriel's  Blessing/  ' 

"  Tempt  me  not !  "  said  Father  White,  smiling 
but  pushing  the  goblet  away.  "  I  have  not  spent 
my  life  studying  the  Spiritual  Experiences  of  Saint 
Ignatius  without  profiting  by  that  holy  man's 
injunction  to  regard  the  mouth  as  the  portal  of 
the  soul.  The  wine  industry  is  important,  but  I 
fear  the  effect  of  drinking  on  the  natives.  I  have 
seen  a  chief  take  blasphemous  swigs  of  the  conse 
crated  wine  at  the  sacrament,  and  at  a  wedding 
half  the  tribe  are  drunken." 

"  Prithee,  tell  me  more  of  these  missions  among 
the  natives,"  Elinor  said  to  Father  Mohl,  bend 
ing  the  full  splendor  of  her  glance  upon  him  ; 
"  are  they  not  fraught  with  deadly  peril  ?  " 

"  To  the  body,  doubtless." 

"  'T  would  be  to  the  soul  too  if  I  were  engaged 
in  them,  for  I  have  such  hatred  of  hardship  that 
I  should  spend  my  time  bewailing  the  task  I  had 
undertaken." 

"  Nay,  daughter,  for  ere  thou  wert  called  to  the 


20 


St.  Gabriel's  and  St.  Inigo's 

trial  thou  wouldst  have  faced  the  tests  that  do 
lead  up  to  it  as  the  via  dolorosa  to  Calvary. 
Before  we  take  the  final  vows  we  undergo  three 
probations,  the  first  devoted  to  the  mind,  and  the 
last  a  year  of  penance  and  privation,  that  we  may 
test  our  strength  and  learn  to  forego  all  that 
hampers  our  spiritual  progress ;  this  is  called  the 
school  of  the  heart" 

"  Would  there  were  such  for  a  woman  !  " 

"  There  is,"  said  Neville  from  the  other  side ; 
"  but  it  is  where  she  rules  instead  of  being  ruled." 

Elinor  turned  and  looked  at  him  with  that  lack 
of  comprehension  which  a  woman  knows  how  to 
assume  when  she  understands  everything.  "  He 
loves  her,"  thought  the  priest;  "but  she  only 
loves  his  love." 

Yet,  knowing  how  many  matches  have  been 
brought  about  by  this  state  of  things,  Father 
Mohl  set  himself  to  study  Neville.  He  found 
him  reserved  in  general,  with  the  suavity  and  self- 
command  of  a  man  of  the  world,  but  outspoken 
under  irritation. 

"We  must  make  him  angry,"  thought  the 
priest. 

Seeing  that  Neville  was  a  Protestant,  he  began 
relating  the  deeds  wrought  by  priests. 

"  Do  you  recall,  Father  White,"  he  said,  "how 
the  natives  brought  their  chief  to  die  in  the  mis 
sion  house,  and  how  Father  Copley  laid  on  him  a 


21 


Sir  Christopher 


sacred  bone,  and  how  the  sick  man  recovered, 
and  went  about  praising  God  and  the  fathers?  " 

"  I  do  remember  it  well/'  Father  White  an 
swered. 

"Yes,"  continued  the  younger  priest,  "and 
I  recall  how  Brother  Fisher  found  a  native 
woman  sick  unto  death.  He  instructed  her 
in  the  catechism,  laid  a  cross  on  her  breast, 
and  behold,  the  third  day  after,  the  woman 
rose  entirely  cured,  and  throwing  a  heavy  bag 
over  her  shoulder  walked  a  distance  of  four 
leagues." 

"  Wonderful  !  wonderful  ! "  murmured  Mary 
Brent. 

Neville  was  irritated,  and  thought  to  turn  Father 
Mohl's  tales  to  ridicule.  Whom  the  gods  would 
destroy  they  first  make  droll. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  the  miracle  of  the 
buttered  whetstone?"  he  asked. 

"  Pray  you  tell  it,"  said  Father  Mohl,  with  his 
ominous  smile. 

"  Why,  there  was  a  friar  once  in  London  who 
did  use  to  go  often  to  the  house  of  an  old  woman  ; 
but  ever  when  he  came  she  hid  all  the  food  in 
the  house,  having  heard  that  friars  and  chickens 
never  get  enough." 

If  only  Neville  had  looked  at  Elinor!  but  he 
steered  as  straight  for  destruction  as  any  rudder 
less  bark  in  a  storm  on  a  rocky  coast. 

22 


St.  Gabriel's  and  St.  Inigo's 

"This  day/'  he  went  on,  <£  the  friar  asked  the 
goodwife  had  she  any  meat." 

"  '  Devil  a  taste  ! '  she  said. 

"  <  Well/  quoth  the  friar,  c  have  you  a  whet 
stone  ? ' 

« <  Yes/ 

"c  Marry,  I  '11  eat  that/ 

"  So  when  she  had  brought  the  whetstone,  he 
bade  her  fetch  a  frying-pan,  and  when  he  had 
it,  he  set  it  on  the  fire  and  laid  the  whetstone 

in  it. 

"c  Cock's  body!'  said  the  poor  wife,  'you'll 

burn  the  pan  ! ' 

"  £  No  !  no  ! '  quoth  the  friar ;  c  you  shall  see  a 
miracle.  It  shall  not  burn  at  all  if  you  bring  me 
some  eggs.' 

"So  she  brought  the  eggs  and  he  dropped 
them  in  the  pan. 

"  c  Quick  ! '  cried  he,  c  some  butter  and  milk,  or 
pan  and  egg  will  both  burn.' 

"  So  she  ran  for  the  butter,  and  the  friar  took 
salt  from  the  table  and  threw  it  into  the  pan  with 
butter  and  eggs  and  milk,  and  when  all  was  done 
he  set  the  pan  on  the  table,  whetstone  and  all, 
and  calling  the  woman,  he  bade  her  tell  her 
friends  how  she  had  witnessed  a  miracle,  and 
how  a  holy  friar  had  made  a  good  meal  of  a 
fried  whetstone.'' 

Father    Mohl   was    now    angered  in   his  turn. 
23 


Sir  Christopher 

Priests,  having  surrendered  the  love  of  women, 
cling  with  double  tenacity  to  their  reverence. 

"  A  merry  tale,  sir,"  said  he,  smoothly,  "though 
better  suited  to  the  ale-house  than  the  lady's 
table,  and  more  meet  for  the  ears  of  scoffers  than 
of  believers —  Daughter,"  turning  to  Mary 
Brent,  "  you  were  amazed  a  moment  since  at  the 
wonders  God  hath  wrought  through  the  hands  of 
His  chosen  ones ;  but  the  judgments  of  the  Lord 
are  no  less  marvellous  than  His  mercies.  There 
was  a  Calvinist  settled  at  Kent  Fort  who  made 
sport  over  our  holy  observances." 

Elinor  Calvert  colored  and  looked  from  under 
her  eyelids  at  Neville.  But  he  went  on  plying 
his  knife  and  fork.  "  If  he  were  angry/'  she  said 
to  herself,  "he  would  not  eat."  But  in  this  she 
mistook  the  nature  of  man,  judging  it  by  her 
own. 

"  Yes,"  continued  Father  Mohl,  "  although, 
thanks  to  our  prayers,  the  wretch  was  rescued 
from  drowning  on  the  blessed  day  of  Pentecost, 
yet  he  showed  thanks  neither  to  God  nor  to  us. 
Coming  upon  a  company  offering  their  vows  to 
the  saints,  he  began  impudently  to  jeer  at  these 
religious  men,  and  flung  back  ribald  jests  as  he 
pushed  his  boat  from  shore.  The  next  morning 
his  boat  was  found  overturned  in  the  Bay,  and  he 
was  never  heard  of  more." 

Neville  looked  up.  "  I  am  glad,"  he  said,  "  to 
24 


St.  Gabriel's  and  St.  Inigo's 

be  able  to  supply  a  happier  ending  to  your 
story.  The  man,  as  it  happens,  was  picked  up 
by  an  outward-bound  ship,  and  is  alive  and  well 
in  England  to-day." 

"  You  knew  the  blasphemer,  then  ?  " 

"  I  know  the  man  of  whom  you  speak  —  a 
fine  fellow  he  is,  and  the  foe  of  all  liars  and 
hypocrites." 

"Ah,  I  forgot,"  answered  Father  Mohl, 
smoothly,  "you  are  not  one  of  us." 

"  Not  I,"  cried  Neville,  hotly  ;  "  I  have  cast  in 
my  lot  with  honest  men." 

"  Say  no  more,"  said  Mohl,  satisfied,  "  lest  thou 
too  blaspheme  and  die !  Miser eatur  tui.  Omnipotent 
Deus  !  "  Having  thus  achieved  the  difficult  task 
of  giving  offence  and  granting  forgiveness  at  the 
same  time,  Father  Mohl  smiled  and  leaned  back 
content. 

Neville,  on  his  side,  was  smiling  too,  thinking, 
poor  fool,  that  the  victory  lay  with  him  ;  but 
looking  round  he  saw  Elinor  raise  her  wine  cup 
to  her  lips,  and  looking  closer  he  saw  two  tears 
rise  in  her  eyes,  swell  over  the  lids,  and  slip  into 
the  wine  cup.  Instantly  he  cursed  himself  for  a 
stupid  brute.  "  Madam,"  he  said,  speaking  low 
in  Elinor's  ear,  so  that  she  alone  could  hear  him, 
"thou  art  wasteful.  Cleopatra  cast  only  one 
pearl  into  her  wine-cup,  and  thou  hast  dropped 
two." 

25 


Sir  Christopher 


At  the  same  moment  a  little  white  figure  ap 
peared  in  the  doorway. 

"  May  I  come  in  for  nutth  ? "  asked  a  small 
voice. 

"  Cecil,  for  shame !  Go  back  to  bed  this 
instant !  "  cried  his  mother ;  but  Neville  drew  a 
stool  between  him  and  Mary  Brent,  and  silently 
motioned  to  Cecil,  to  come  and  occupy  it. 

"  The  child  should  be  taught  obedience  through 
discipline,"  said  Father  Mohl,  looking  with  raised 
eyebrows  toward  Elinor.  Cecil  cowered  against 
the  wall ;  but  kept  his  eyes  upon  the  coveted  seat. 

Neville  crossed  glances  with  the  priest  as  men 
cross  swords.  "  Or  confidence  through  love  — 

"  Cecil,"  he  continued,  "  beg  thy  mother  to 
heed  the  petition  of  a  guest  and  let  thee  sit  here 
by  me  for  ten  little  minutes ;  I  will  bid  thee  eat 
nuts,  —  so  shalt  thou  practise  Father  Mohl's 
precepts  of  obedience." 

Elinor  smiled,  Neville  put  out  his  hand,  a 
strong,  nervous  hand,  and  Cecil  knew  his  cause 
was  won. 

"  Lonely  upstairs,"  he  confided  to  Neville  as 
he  helped  himself  to  nuts;  "makes  me  think  of 
bears." 

"  Bears  come  not  into  houses." 

"  They  say  not,  but  the  dark  looks  like  a  big 
black  one,  big  enough  to  swallow  house  and  all. 
I  do  not  like  the  dark,  do  you  ?  " 

26 


St.  Gabriel's  and  St.  Inigo's 

"  I  did  not  when  I  was  your  age, — that's  sure  ; 
but  I  have  seen  so  many  worse  things  since  then — " 

"What?" 

"  Myself,  for  instance." 

"  That 's  silly." 

"  I  think  it  is." 

"Do  not  say  silly  things!  Mother  sends  me 
to  bed  when  I  do." 

"  Is  it  not  silly  to  fear  the  dark  ?  " 

"  Mayhap,  but  I  lie  still  all  of  a  tremble,  and 
then  I  seem  to  hear  a  growl  at  the  door,  and 
then  blood  and  flesh  cannot  stand  it  and  I 
scream  for  Mother.  Three  or  two  timeth  I 
scream,  and  she  comes  running." 

"  Wouldst  have  the  bear  eat  thy  mother  ?  " 

"  Nay,  but  sure  'nuff  he  would  not.  The 
Dark  Bear  eateth  only  little  boys." 

"  Oh,  only  little  boys  ?  " 

"  Ay,  and  he  beginneth  with  their  toes. 
Therefore  I  dare  not  kneel  alone  to  say  my 
Hail  Maries.  The  Dark  Bear  is  not  like  God, 
for  God  careth  only  for  the  heart.  Thir  Chrith- 
topher,  why  doth  God  care  more  for  the  heart 
than  for  the  head  and  legs  ? " 

"  Come,  Cecil,"  said  Elinor's  warning  voice, 
"  thou  art  chattering  as  loud  as  a  tree-toad,  and  the 
ten  minutes  are  more  than  passed.  Run  up  and 
hide  those  cold  toes  of  thine  under  the  counter 


pane  ! 


27 


Sir  Christopher 

cc  If  I  go,  wilt  thou  come  up  after  supper  to  see 
me  ?  " 

"  If  I  can  be  spared." 

"  Nay,  no  ifs  —  ay  or  no  ?  " 

Father  Mohl  smiled,  and  his  smile  was  not 
good  to  see. 

"  Is  this  the  flower  of  that  confidence  through 
love  which  you  so  much  admire.  Sir  Christopher?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Neville,  "  only  the  thorns  on 
its  stem  ;  the  blossoms  are  not  yet  out." 

"  Ay  or  no  ? "  repeated  the  child,  oblivious  of 
the  discussion  going  on  around  him. 

"  Oh,  ayy  and  get  thee  gone  !  "  cried  his  mother, 
thoroughly  out  of  patience  with  the  child  and 
herself  and  every  one  else. 

Cecil  ran  round  to  her  seat,  hugged  her  in  a 
stifling  embrace,  and  then  pattered  out  of  the 
room  and  up  the  stair,  reassuring  his  timid  little 
heart  by  saying  aloud  as  he  went,  c<  Bearth  come 
not  into  houtheth  !  Bearth  come  not  into 
houtheth  !  " 

Father  Mohl  sat  with  bent  head,  the  enigmatic 
smile  still  playing  round  his  lips.  At  length, 
making  the  sign  of  the  cross,  he  spoke  aside  to 
Father  White,  — 

"  Have  I  leave  to  depart? " 

"  Go  —  and  pax  tibi  !  " 

The  company  rose. 

"  Father,    must    thou    be    gone    so    soon  ? " 
28 


St.  Gabriel's  and  St.  Inigo's 

Mary   Brent  asked,  with  hospitable   entreaty  in 
her  tones. 

"  I  must,  my  daughter." 

"  This  very  night  ?  " 

"  This  very  night." 

"  But   the    road    to   St.    Mary's  is    dark   and 

rough." 

"  Ay,  but  our  feet  are  used  to  treading  rough 
roads,  and  the  moon  will  show  the  blazed  path  as 
clearly  as  the  sun  itself." 

"Farewell,"  said  Father  White.  "Bear  my 
greetings  to  my  brothers  at  St.  Inigo's,  and 
charge  them  that  they  cease  not  from  their  labors 

till  I  come." 

When  Father  Mohl  passed  Neville,  Sir  Chris 
topher,  moved  by  a  sudden  compunction,  held  out 
his  hand.  "  Hey  for  St.  Mary's  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
with  a  note  of  cordiality  which  if  a  trifle  forced 
was  at  least  civil. 

Father  Mohl  ignored  the  outstretched  hand, 
and  with  his  own  grasped  the  crucifix  at  his 
breast.  The  sneer  in  his  smile  deepened,  and  one 
heard  the  breath  of  scorn  in  his  nostrils  as  he 
answered,  with  a  meaning  glance  at  Elinor,  "  The 
latter  part  of  the  Marylanders'  battle-cry  were 
perchance  honester.  Why  not  make  it  £  Wives 
for  us  all'?" 

This  passed  the  bounds  of  patience,  and  Neville 
cast  overboard  that  self-control  which  is  the  bal- 

29 


Sir  Christopher 


last  of  the  soul.     His  outstretched  hand  clenched 
itself  into  a  fist. 

"  Sir  !"  he  cried,  very  white  about  the  lips,  "if 
you  wore  a  sword  instead  of  a  scapular,  we  might 
easily  settle  our  affairs.  But  since  your  garb  cries 
c  Sanctuary ! '  while  your  tongue  doth  cut  and 
thrust  rapier-like,  I  '11  e'en  grant  you  the 
victory  in  the  war  of  words.  Good-night,  Sir 
Priest ! " 

For  answer  the  father  only  folded  his  cloak 
about  him  and  slipped  out  of  the  door  as  quietly 
as  though  he  were  to  re-enter  in  an  hour. 

Father  White  followed  Mistress  Brent  to  the 
hall,  from  the  window  of  which  she  strove  to 
watch  the  retreating  figure  of  Father  Mohl. 
Neville  thus  found  himself  alone  with  Elinor 
Calvert  once  more.  He  regarded  her  with  some 
anxiety,  an  anxiety  justified  by  her  bearing.  The 
full  round  chin  was  held  an  inch  higher  than  its 
wont,  the  nostrils  were  dilated  and  the  eyelids 
half  closed.  A  wise  man  would  have  been  care 
ful  how  he  offered  a  vent  for  her  scorn ;  but  to 
her  lover  it  seemed  that  any  utterance  would  be 
better  than  this  contemptuous  silence. 

"  You  are  very  angry  —  "  ventured  Neville, 
timidly. 

"  I  have  cause." 

"  —  and  ashamed  of  me." 

"  I  have  a  right  to  be." 
30 


St.  Gabriel's  and  St.  Inigo's 

"  Thank  Heaven  for  that !  " 

"  If  you  thank  Heaven  for  the  shame  you 
cause  you  are  like  enough  to  spend  your  life  on 
your  knees/' 

"  I  deprecate  your  scorn,  madam.  Yet  I  can 
not  take  back  the  saying." 

"  Make  it  good,  then  !  " 

"  Why,  so  I  will.  None  feel  shame  save  when 
they  feel  responsibility.  None  feel  responsibility 
for  those  who  are  neither  kith  nor  kin  save  where 
they  —  " 

"  Where  they  what?  "  flashed  Elinor,  turning 
her  great  angry  eyes  full  upon  him. 

"  Save  where  they  love,  Mistress  Calvert." 

It  was  out  now  and  Neville  felt  better.  Elinor 
clenched  her  hands  and  began  an  angry  retort, 
and  then  all  of  a  sudden  broke  down,  and  bend 
ing  her  head  over  the  back  of  the  high  oak  chair, 
stood  sobbing  silently. 

"  I  pray  you  be  angry/'  pleaded  Neville ; 
"your  wrath  was  hard  to  bear  ;  but  'twas  naught 
to  this." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  Elinor  between  her  sobs, 
"  it  is  much  you  care  either  for  my  anger  or  your 
grief,  that  the  first  proof  you  give  of  your  boasted 
love  is  to  offend  those  whom  I  hold  in  affection 
and  reverence." 

"  'T  was  he  provoked  me  to  it,"  answered 
Neville,  sullenly,  "  with  his  tales  of  my  friend 

31 


Sir  Christopher 


yonder,  as  honest  a  fellow  as  walks  the  earth.  Is 
a  man  to  sit  still  and  listen  in  silence  to  a  pack 
of  lies  told  about  his  friend  ?  " 

"  Say  no  more  !  "  commanded  Elinor.  "  I  see 
a  man  is  bound  to  bear  all  things  for  the  man 
to  whom  he  has  professed  friendship  —  noth 
ing  for  the  woman  to  whom  he  has  professed 
love." 

There  was  little  logic  in  the  argument,  but  it 
made  its  mark,  for  it  was  addressed  not  to  the 
mind  but  to  the  heart. 

"  Forgive  me  !  "  cried  Neville  —  which  was  by 
far  the  best  thing  he  could  have  said. 

If  a  woman  has  anything  to  forgive,  the  grant 
ing  of  pardon  is  a  necessity.  If  she  has  nothing 
to  forgive,  it  is  a  luxury. 

"  I  do,"  she  murmured. 

"  Perhaps  I  was  rougher  of  manner  than  need 


was." 


"  Yet  't  was  but  nature." 

"  Yes,  but  nature  must  be  held  in  check." 

Thus  did  these  inconsistent  beings  oppose  each 
other,  each  taking  the  ground  occupied  a  few 
minutes  since  by  the  other,  and  as  hot  for  the 
defence  as  they  had  been  but  now  for  the  attack. 

Neville  seized  Elinor's  hand  and  kissed  it 
passionately ;  then  snatching  up  his  hat  and 
cloak  he  exclaimed,  "  I  will  go  after  Mohl  and 
make  my  peace.  Henceforth  I  swear  what  is 

32 


St.  Gabriel's  and  St.  Inigo's 

dear  to  you  shall  be  held  at  least  beyond  re 
proach  by  me." 

Elinor  turned  upon  him  such  a  glance  that  he 
scarcely  dared  look  upon  her  lest  he  be  struck 
blind  by  the  ecstasy  of  his  own  soul. 

"  At  last ! "  he  whispered  as  he  passed  out  into 
the  night. 

Was  it  luck  or  fate  that  guided  him  ?  Who 
shall  say?  Luck  is  the  pebble  on  which  the 
traveller  trips  and  slides  into  quicksands  or  sands 
of  gold.  Fate  is  the  cliff  against  which  he  leans, 
or  dashes  himself  to  death.  Yet  the  pebble  was 
once  part  of  the  cliff. 


33 


CHAPTER   III 

BLESSING    AND    BANNING 

"  I*    yTOTHER!     Mother/" 

\/ 1          It  was  Cecil's  voice  on  the  landing^ 

•^  *  -**"  and  Cecil's  white  nightgowned  figure 
hanging  over  the  balustrade. 

"Yes,  Poppet,  what  is  it?  " 

"  Thou  didtht  not  come  upstairs  as  thou  didtht 
promise  when  the  nuts  were  served.  ..." 

"  Dearest,  I  could  not.  I  was  in  talk  with  Sir 
Christopher." 

"  But  thou  didtht  promise,  and  how  oft  have  I 
heard  thee  say,  c  A  promise  is  a  promise '  ? " 

Elinor  started  from  her  chair  to  go  toward  the 
stair ;  but  Father  White  stayed  her  with  uplifted 
finger. 

"  Let  me  deal  with  him,"  he  said  under  his 
breath  ;  "  t'is  time  the  lad  learned  the  difference 
between  the  failure  which  is  stuff"  o'  the  con 
science,  and  that  which  is  the  fault  of  circum 
stances."  Then  aloud,  "  Cecil,  wilt  thou  close 
thine  eyes  and  come  down  to  me  when  thou 
hast  counted  a  hundred  ?  " 

34 


Blessing  and  Banning 

«  Ay,  that  will  I." 

"  Without  fail  ?  " 

"  Why,  surely !  There  is  naught  I  would 
love  better  than  toathting  my  toeth  by  the  great 
fire." 

"  Very  well,  then  ;  shut  thine  eyes  and  begin  !  " 

Cecil  counted  faithfully  to  the  stroke  of  a  hun 
dred,  and  then  springing  to  his  feet  with  a  shout, 
started  down  the  stair,  but  to  his  surprise  the 
priest  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Cecil  searched 
behind  the  settle  and  under  the  table  as  if  one 
could  fancy  Father  White's  stately  figure  in  such 
undignified  hiding-place  !  At  length  the  child 
gave  up  the  search  and  called  aloud, — 

"  Where  art  thou  ?  " 

"  Here,  in  this  little  room,"  answered  a  muffled 
voice,  and  Cecil  ran  to  the  door  only  to  find  it 
securely  fastened  by  a  bolt  within. 

(C  Come  in,"  cried  the  voice. 

"  I  cannot ;  it  ith  bolted." 

"  But  you  promised  —  " 

"  But  the  door  ith  fatht." 

"  What  of  that  ?     c  A  promise  is  a  promise' ' 

By  this  time  Cecil,  perceiving  that  jest  and  les 
son  were  both  pointed  at  him,  stood  with  quiver 
ing  lip,  ready  at  a  single  further  word  to  burst 
into  tears  ;  but  the  kind  father,  flinging  wide  the 
door,  caught  him  in  his  arms,  saying,  "  We  must 
not  hold  each  other  responsible,  my  boy,  for 

35 


Sir  Christopher 

promises  which  God  and  man  can  make  impossi 
ble  of  fulfilment.  We  must  be  gentle  and  chari 
table  and  easy  to  be  entreated  for  forgiveness  ; 
and  so  good-night  to  mother,  and  I  will  lay  thee 
again  in  thy  trundle-bed/' 

"  Has  Sir  Christopher  Neville  left  us  also  ?  ' 
asked  Mary  Brent,  as  Father  White  came  down 
from  Cecil's  room  and  joined  her  and  Elinor  at 
the  fire. 

"  He  has." 

"  A  strange  man  !  "  said  Father  White. 

Elinor  colored. 

"  Ay,"  answered  Mary  Brent ;  "  I  cannot  make 
out  why  Giles  hath  taken  such  a  liking  to  him. 
To  me  he  seems  proud  and  reserved,  with  some 
thing  in  his  tone  that  suggests  that  he  is  turn 
ing  the  company  into  a  jest.  For  myself  I  did 
not  see  anything  droll  in  his  story  of  the  fried 
whetstone." 

Elinor  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"If  every  man  were  condemned  that  told  a 
tale  in  which  others  could  see  nothing  droll,  we 
should  need  a  Tyburn  Hill  here  in  Maryland." 

"  Ay,  but  what 's  the  use  of  telling  a  droll  story 
if  it  be  not  droll  ?  I  do  not  understand  Sir 
Christopher." 

"  I  don't  think  you  do." 

"  I  think  7  do." 

It   was    Father    White    who    spoke,    and    his 


Blessing  and  Banning 

shrewd  gray  eyes  were  fixed  upon    Elinor,  who 
turned  to  the  fire  without  a  word. 

Mary  Brent  sat  tapping  her  foot  on  the  floor. 

"  'T  is  strange  he  should  have  left  without  a 
word,"  she  said  at  last. 

cc  Never  fear,  Mary  !  We  have  not  lost  him. 
He  is  too  large  to  be  mislaid  like  a  parcel.  He 
did  but  go  out  to  fulfil  a  behest  of  mine,  and  if 
Father  White  understands  him,  as  he  says  he 
does,  he  will  have  divined  that  it  was  an  errand 
of  courtesy  and  good-will  on  which  he  set  out." 

A  silence  fell  on  the  group.  Then  Father 
White,  looking  out,  exclaimed  :  "  'T  is  a  bitter 
night  and  the  snow  is  falling  again  !  No  wonder 
the  settlers  grumble  over  such  a  winter  in  this 
land  where  they  were  promised  all  sunshine  and 
flowers." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mary  Brent.  "  If  the  weather  is 
to  be  like  this,  we  might  as  well  have  settled  on 
the  bleak  Massachusetts  coast." 

"It  cannot  last  long.  The  natives  all  say 
they  never  knew  such  a  season.  They  fear  to 
go  abroad  at  night,  there  are  so  many  half- 
starved  wild  beasts  prowling  around." 

Elinor  rose  and  began  to  pace  the  floor  uneasily. 

"  But,"  continued  Father  White,  "  there  are 
more  reasons  than  those  of  climate  for  prefer 
ring  Maryland  to  Massachusetts.  How  wouldst 
thou  have  prospered  in  a  Puritan  colony  ? " 

37 


Sir  Christopher 


"  I  trust  even  there  I  should  have  been  true 
to  Mother  Church,  and  perchance  converted  some 
of  the  heretics  from  the  error  of  their  ways." 

cc  Yet,"  interrupted  Elinor,  "  they  too  are  serv 
ing  God  in  their  own  way." 

Mary  Brent  shook  her  head.  "  I  care  not 
to  talk  of  them.  In  truth  had  I  known  this 
Neville  was  a  Protestant,  I  had  never  urged 
him  for  thy  tenant  at  Robin  Hood's  Barn." 

Elinor   murmured   something   about  "  tolera 


tion." 


"  Toleration  !  "  repeated  her  cousin  scornfully. 
"  I  hate  the  word.  He  that  tolerates  any  relig 
ion  against  his  own  is  either  a  hypocrite  or  a 
backslider." 

"  Shall  there  be  no  liberty  of  conscience  ?  " 
"  Ay,  but  liberty  to  think  wrong  is  no  liberty." 
"  These    be  deep  matters,  my  daughters,  and 
best  left  to  the  schoolmen,"  said  Father  White. 
"  None  doubt  that  Mistress  Brent  hath  kept  her 
fidelity  unspotted    to    the  Church.     Let    Elinor 
Calvert  pattern  after  her  kinswoman." 

Thereafter  Father  White  turned  again  to  the 
subject  of  missions,  and  the  two  women  listened 
till  the  hour-glass  had  been  turned  and  the 
candles  began  to  burn  low  in  their  sockets.  At 
last  Mary  Brent  grew  somewhat  impatient.  If 
she  had  a  vice  it  was  excess  of  punctuality.  She 
was  willing  to  share  her  last  crust  with  a  stran- 

38 


Blessing  and  Banning 

ger;  but  he  must  be  on  hand  when  it  came  out 
of  the  oven.  The  hours  for  meals  and  espe 
cially  for  bedtime  were  scrupulously  observed  in 
her  household,  and  to-night  it  irked  her  to  be 
kept  up  thus  beyond  her  usual  hour  for  retiring. 

Elinor,  perceiving  this  and  feeling  some  sense 
of  responsibility  for  the  cause,  said  at  last,  — 

"  I  pray  thee,  Cousin,  wait  no  longer  the  com 
ing  of  Sir  Christopher,  whose  errand  has  kept 
him  beyond  what  I  counted  on,  else  I  would 
not  have  given  my  consent.  Father  White  and 
I  will  sit  up  to  await  his  coming.  Go  thou  to 
bed,  and  see  that  the  counterpane  is  drawn  high 
over  Cecil,  for  the  howling  of  the  wind  promises 
a  cold  night." 

"  Poor  little  one ! "  said  Mary  Brent,  rising 
and  evidently  glad  of  an  excuse  for  retiring,  "  I 
will  see  that  he  is  tucked  in  warm  and  snug. 
Sir  Christopher  is  to  sleep  next  Father  White. 
I  have  had  his  bed  made  with  our  new  home 
spun  sheets/' 

As  Mistress  Brent  passed  out  of  sight  up  the 
stairs,  Elinor  turned  to  Father  White  with  tears 
standing  in  her  eyes,  — 

"  How  good  she  is  !  "  she  murmured. 

"  Ay,  a  good  woman  —  her  price  is  above 
rubies.  1  pray  that  by  her  example  and  influ 
ence  you  may  be  held  as  true  as  she  to  your 
duties  to  God  and  His  Holy  Church." 

39 


Sir  Christopher 

Elinor  stirred  uneasily.  The  movement  did 
not  escape  the  priest's  eye,  accustomed  to  study 
ing  every  symptom  of  the  soul's  troubles  as  a 
physician  studies  the  signs  of  bodily  tribulations. 

"  My  daughter,"  he  continued,  "  is  your  heart 
wholly  at  peace  —  firmly  stayed  upon  the  living 
rock  ?  " 

"No!  no!"  cried  Elinor,  "it  is  rather  a  boat 
tossed  upon  the  waves  at  the  mercy  of  every 
tempest  that  sweeps  the  waters." 

"  How  strange  !  "  said  Father  White,  speaking 
softly  as  to  a  suffering  child.  "  How  strange  that 
you  thus  of  your  own  will  are  tossed  about,  and 
run  the  risk  of  being  cast  upon  the  rocks ;  yea, 
of  perishing  utterly  in  the  whirlwind,  when  peace 
is  waiting  for  you,  to  be  had  for  the  asking." 

"  I  would  I  knew  how  to  find  it." 

"  Even  as  St.  Peter  found  it  when  he  too  was 
in  peril  of  deep  waters,  by  calling  upon  the  name 
of  the  Lord.  Come,  my  daughter,  come  with 
me  to  the  altar,  that  we  may  seek  it  together ! " 

Taking  a  candle  from  the  table  he  rose  and 
led  the  way  to  the  recess  at  the  end  of  the  hall, 
which  Mary  Brent  had  piously  fitted  up  as  a 
chapel,  where  before  the  altar  burned  the  undying 
lamp  of  devotion. 

"  Here,"  said  the  priest,  "  peace  awaits  the 
storm-tossed  soul.  It  shall  be  thine.  But  first 
must  thou  throw  overboard  all  sinful  desires,  ali 

40 


Blessing  and  Banning 

guilty  memories,  all  selfish  wishes,  and  seek  in 
simplicity  of  heart  that  peace  of  God  which 
passeth  understanding.  Kneel,  my  daughter,  at 
the  confessional ! " 

So  saying  he  seated  himself  in  the  great  oaken 
chair,  brought  out  of  England.  Elinor  fell  upon 
her  knees  beside  it  and  poured  out  the  grief 
and  struggles  of  her  tumultuous  soul. 

"  Bless  me,  Father,  because  I  have  sinned." 
The  voice  trembled  at  first  so  that  the  words 
could  scarcely  be  heard,  but  grew  firmer  as  she 
went  on  in  the  familiar  words :  cc  I  confess  to 
Almighty  God,  to  blessed  Mary  ever  Virgin, 
to  Michael  the  archangel,  to  blessed  John  the 
Baptist,  to  the  holy  apostles  Peter  and  Paul, 
to  all  the  saints,  and  to  you,  Father,  that  I  have 
sinned  exceedingly  in  thought,  word,  and  deed, 
through  my  fault,  through  my  fault,  through 
my  most  grievous  fault." 

"  Me  a  culpa,  mea  culpa,  me  a  maxima  culpa  !  " 
How  the  words  ring  down  the  ages  laden  with 
their  burden  of  human  penitence  and  remorse  ! 
Still,  despite  all  the  uses  to  which  they  have 
been  wrested  by  hypocrisy  and  levity,  they 
remain  infinitely  touching  in  the  link  they  fur 
nish,  the  bond  of  unity  for  the  suffering,  sin- 
laden  souls  of  many  races  and  many  generations. 

When  Elinor  had  finished  the  list  of  offences 
whereof  she  wished  to  free  her  soul,  and  which 


Sir  Christopher 

even  to  the  sensitive  conscience  of  Father  White 
appeared  over  trivial  for  the  emotion  she  had 
shown,  the  priest  asked  softly  :  "  Is  there  noth 
ing  else  ?  Examine  well  thine  heart.  Leave  no 
dark  sin  untold  to  grow  in  the  shadow  and 
choke  the  fair  flower  of  repentance." 

"  No,  Father,  I  know  of  no  other  sin." 

"  Nor  any  unworthy  wish  ?  " 

"  Nor  any  unworthy  wish." 

cc  Nor  any  carnal  affection  threatening  to  draw 
thy  soul  away  from  the  path  of  salvation  ?  " 

The  shaft  was  shrewdly  aimed.  It  struck 
home. 

"  Father,  is  it  a  sin  to  love  ?  " 

"  It  may  be  —  a  deadly  sin." 

"  To  love  purely,  with  a  high  and  unselfish 
devotion  ? " 

"  It  may  be." 

"  Prithee,  tell  me  how,  since  God  himself  is 
love." 

"  There  is  indeed  a  Godlike  love,  stooping  to 
the  weakest,  bending  over  the  lowest,  yearning 
most  over  the  most  unworthy,  such  as  the  love 
of  the  shepherd  for  his  sheep,  of  the  mother  for 
her  son,  of  the  true  priest  for  his  flock  ;  but  let  a 
woman  beware  how  she  brings  to  the  altar  such  a 
love  for  her  husband." 

Elinor  started. 

"  Yes,"  Father  White  went  on  tenderly,  but  as 
42 


Blessing  and  Banning 

one  who  must  probe  the  wound  that  it  may  heal 
the  sooner,  "it  is  the  nature  of  woman  to  look 
up.  She  will  do  it,  and  if  she  cannot  raise  the 
one  she  loves  she  will  stoop  to  the  dust  herself, 
that  from  that  abasement  the  man  may  still  seem 
to  stand  above  her." 

"  Father,"  cried  Elinor,  casting  aside  all  con 
cealment,  "  the  man  I  love  is  not  base." 

"  Do  I  know  him  ?  " 

"  You  have  seen  him." 

"  This  night  ?  " 

"This  night." 

"  Can  a  man  who  knoweth  not  how  to  rule  his 
own  tongue  rule  a  wife,  and  above  all  a  wife  like 
thee,  aflame  one  instant,  the  next  melted  to  ten 
derness,  full  of  pity  and  long-suffering,  yet  quick 
of  spirit  and  proud  as  Lucifer  ?  " 

Elinor  was  silent. 

"  A  captious  temper  is  a  grievous  fault,  yet  it 
may  be  mended  —  if  he  is  of  the  true  faith.  But, 
oh,  my  daughter,  tempt  not  thy  fate  by  marrying 
an  unbeliever!  Faults  thou  mayst  conquer  ;  sins 
thou  mayst  forgive  or  win  forgiveness  for;  but 
unbelief  is  a  blight  which  fosters  every  vice  and 
destroys  every  virtue.  Root  up  this  passion, 
though  it  seem  to  tear  thy  life  with  it.  Think 
on  thy  boy  !  Durst  thou  expose  him  to  the  in 
fluence  of  such  an  example  ? " 

"  Father,"  said  Elinor,  tremulously,  "  I  cannot 
43 


Sir  Christopher 


answer  now  —  I  must  have  time  to  think.  Who 
knows  but  my  love  may  draw  him  into  the  right 
path?" 

The  priest  shook  his  head  ;  but  as  he  was  about 
to  answer,  the  stamping  of  feet  was  heard  outside, 
and  Father  White  dismissed  his  penitent  with  a 
wave  of  his  hand. 

"  Go,  my  daughter.  But  as  thou  dost  value 
thy  soul  and  the  soul  of  thy  boy,  entangle  thyself 
no  further  till  thou  hast  taken  counsel  once  more 
with  me.  And  may  Almighty  God  be  merciful 
unto  thee,  and,  forgiving  thee  thy  sins,  bring  thee 
to  life  everlasting  !  " 

Elinor  rose  from  her  knees,  and  drawing  aside 
the  curtain  passed  out  into  the  hall,  while  Father 
White  tarried  for  the  candles. 

Neville  came  in  at  the  outer  door,  bringing  with 
him  a  gust  of  wind  and  cold.  Knut  rose  from 
the  hearth  with  a  low  growl  and  moved  suspi 
ciously  toward  the  stranger,  then,  drawn  by  some 
magnetic  attraction,  he  nosed  about  him  and  at 
last  fawned  upon  him  and  rubbed  against  his  legs, 
seeking  a  caress.  Neville  bent  over  and  patted 
his  head.  "  Good  dog  !  "  he  said,  "  I  would  I 
had  had  you  with  me  in  the  forest  yonder.  Be 
like  I  had  not  been  so  long  in  finding  my  way 
out.  Ah,  Mistress  Calvert,"  he  added,  peering 
into  the  shadow  from  which  gleamed  the  shimmer 
of  Elinor's  gown,  "  I  am  grieved  to  have  kept  the 

44 


Blessing  and  Banning 

household  awake  so  late,  and  all  for  naught,  since 
I  failed  as  completely  in  the  search  for  Father 
Mohl  as  though  he  had  vanished  like  a  spirit  in 
the  air." 

"  Yet  of  old  you  were  a  swift  runner.  I  have 
seen  you  chase  a  hare  across  the  fields  at  Frome 
and  keep  the  pace." 

"Ay,  but  that  was  over  Somerset  turf,  and  with 
the  light  of  day  to  guide  me." 

"I  am  much  disappointed — " 

Neville  felt  the  chill  in  Elinor's  tone. 

"  Not  more  disappointed  than  I,"  he  answered. 
"  '  T  is  the  elements  must  bear  the  blame.  When 
I  started  out  the  moonlight  shone  full  on  the  path, 
and  I  could  see  my  way  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile, 
but  even  then  the  clouds  were  hanging  round  the 
moon  like  wolves  about  a  sheep-fold.  In  half  an 
hour  she  was  swallowed  up,  and  then,  to  confuse 
me  the  more,  a  light  snow  began  falling,  slowly  at 
first,  then  faster  and  faster,  till,  what  with  the  wind 
in  my  face  and  the  snow  on  the  path,  I  lost  the 
trail  somewhere  near  the  cross-road.  Before  I 
knew  it  1  was  caught  in  a  thicket  of  brush  and 
briar,  and  when  I  had  struggled  out  there  was  no 
hope  of  catching  the  priest." 

Elinor  looked  closely  at  Neville.  He  was  very 
white  and  breathing  heavily. 

"You  are  hurt,"  she  exclaimed,  moving  toward 
him  with  quick  sympathy.  "  See,  your  garments 

45 


Sir  Christopher 

are  pulled  this  way  and  that  as  if  you  had  strug 
gled  with  worse  foes  than  the  wind." 

"  Only  contact  with  a  few  brambles  through 
which  I  forced  my  way  back  to  the  road  I  had 
lost." 

"  But  your  jerkin  is  torn  — " 

"  Ay,  caught  on  a  stray  branch  which  hung  too 
low." 

"  And  there  is  blood  on  your  boots  —  yes,  and 
on  your  hands.  Oh,  tell  me  what  you  have  gone 
through  while  we  sat  here  at  our  ease  by  the 
hearth!" 

Neville  drew  near  and  spoke  low  :  "  For  such 
sympathy  I  would  have  dared  far  more  than  I 
met.  If  you  will  have  the  story,  it  fell  out  thus. 
Having  forgot  to  buckle  on  my  sword  as  I  went 
out,  I  found  myself  scantily  armed  with  my  short 
poniard.  Yet  did  I  never  think  of  danger,  till 
after  I  had  turned  about,  and  losing  the  blazed 
path,  began  to  scan  each  branch  I  passed,  for 
some  token  that  might  lead  me  straight. 

"  Peering  about  me  with  my  poniard  in  hand  to 
cut  the  boughs,  I  was  aware  of  a  rustling  in  the 
branches  over  my  head  as  of  something  heavier 
than  bird  or  fowl.  I  jumped  aside.  The  crea 
ture  sprang  and  missed  me.  My  hope  lay  in 
a  counter  attack,  and  I  in  turn  leaped  upon  her, 
and  buried  my  poniard  in  her  neck.  She  must 
have  been  made  of  something  other  than  flesh 

46 


Blessing  and  Banning 

and  blood,  else  she  had  fallen  dead  at  my  feet 
from  that  blow;  but  instead  she  made  off  at  a 
bound,  and  with  such  speed  that  I  had  no  chance 
to  discover  her  species,  though  in  the  dark  she 
looked  about  the  size  of  a  panther.  The  worst 
thing  in  the  whole  adventure  was  the  loss  of  my 
knife.  It  has  helped  me  through  many  a  peril 
ous  place,  and  it  goes  hard  with  me  to  have  lost 
it  now.  I  suppose  I  may  count  this  the  best 
service  it  has  done  me.  But  why  do  I  dwell  at 
such  length  upon  a  trifle  ?  I  warrant  there  be 
few  hunters  who  have  passed  a  night  in  our 
wilderness  without  some  such  taste  of  the  man 
ners  of  wild  beasts/' 

"  Make  not  light  of  such  an  escape,"  murmured 
Elinor,  breathlessly.  "  As  for  me,  I  will  give 
thanks  for  thee  upon  my  knees  in  my  closet. 
Father  White  will  show  thee  to  thy  chamber. 
'T  is  the  one  next  his,  and  hath  the  distinction  of 
owning  a  bed  with  sheets  in  place  of  a  deerskin." 

Neville  gazed  at  Elinor  with  some  disappoint 
ment.  He  did  not  appreciate  that  this  was  the 
way  her  quick  wit  chose  to  let  him  know  that 
their  conversation  was  overheard.  As  he  looked 
up  at  her  words,  he  saw  Father  White  moving 
towards  them.  The  candle  in  his  hand  shone 
upward  and  cast  a  light  on  his  white  hairs,  which 
gave  them  the  effect  of  a  halo  around  his  fore 
head.  As  he  held  up  his  fingers  in  token  of 

47 


Sir  Christopher 

benediction  to  Elinor  as  she  passed  him,  he 
seemed  like  some  saint  breathing  serenity  and 
heavenly  joy. 

Despite  his  lifetime  prejudices  Neville  felt 
himself  vaguely  stirred  by  the  half-unearthly 
vision  of  the  saintly  face  framed  in  its  snowy  halo, 
and  the  dark  robes  fading  into  the  blackness  of 
the  hall  beyond. 

"  Bless  me  too,  Father  !  "  he  murmured,  "  for 
I  have  sinned."  The  priest  moved  as  if  he  were 
about  to  comply,  then  suddenly  recalling  himself, 
he  dropped  his  half  outstretched  arm  and  asked : 

"  Is    it    the    blessing   of  Holy    Church    you 

3  » 

crave  r 

<c  No,  faith  !  "  cried  Neville,  suddenly  eman 
cipated  from  the  thrall  of  his  first  impression. 
"  It  was  but  the  blessing  of  a  good  man  I  asked, 
which  to  my  thinking  should  have  some  value, 
with  the  backing  of  any  church  or  none;  but 
since  it  must  be  bought  with  hypocrisy  or  begged 
on  bended  knee  I  will  have  none  of  it.  Good 
night,  madam,"  he  added,  bowing  low  to  Elinor ; 
and  helping  himself  to  a  candle  from  the  table,  he 
lighted  it  at  the  fire. 

"  Good-night,  my  daughter  !  "  the  priest  echoed, 
and  added  softly :  "  Concede  misericors  Devs  fra- 
gilitati  nostr<e  presidium  !  " 


48 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE    LORD    OF    THE    MANOR 

THE  morning  sun  streamed  into  the  bed 
room  where  Cecil  slept  on  his  low 
truckle-bed  beside  his  mother's  cur 
tained  couch.  The  brilliant  rays  tugged  at  the 
boy's  eyelids  and  lifted  them  as  suddenly  as 
the  ropes  raise  the  curtain  of  a  play-house,  and 
indeed  to  this  small  observer  it  seemed  that  a 
perpetual  comedy  was  being  acted  in  the  world 
for  his  special  benefit.  Better  still,  that  it  was  his 
delightful  privilege  to  play  the  part  of  Harlequin 
in  this  rare  farce  of  life  and  to  make  the  gravest 
grown-people  the  sport  of  his  jests.  The  earliest 
manifestation  of  humor,  in  the  individual  as  in 
the  race,  is  the  practical  joke  ;  so  it  was  quite 
natural  that  as  a  fresh  and  delightful  pleasantry  it 
occurred  to  Cecil,  instantly  on  waking,  to  creep 
over  to  his  mother's  bed  and  begin  to  tickle  her 
ear  with  the  tassel  of  the  bed  curtain.  The  mere 
occupation  was  pleasure  enough,  but  the  sensation 
rose  to  ecstasy  as  he  watched  the  sleepy  hand 
raised  time  after  time  to  brush  away  the  supposed 
4  49 


Sir  Christopher 

insect.  At  length  the  enjoyment  grew  too  ex 
quisite  for  repression,  and  at  the  cost  of  ruining 
its  own  existence  burst  out  into  a  peal  of  laughter 
that  roused  the  drowsy  mother. 

"Thou  naughty  implet !  What  hour  o'  the 
clock  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  know  not  the  hour  o'  the  clock  ;  but  o' 
the  sun  'tis  past  rising  time,  and  Couthin  Mary 
,  is  stirring  already." 

"  Then  we  must  be  stirring  too  ;  but  first  sit 
thee  down  here  on  the  edge  of  the  bed  and  try 
to  listen  as  if  thou  wert  grown." 

"  I  am,  mother,  —  I  am  above  thy  waist." 

"  Ay,"  said  Elinor,  smiling,  "  but  the  question 
is,  art  thou  up  to  my  meaning  ?  Hearken  !  Dost 
thou  know  what  a  tenant  is  ?  " 

"  Ay,  —  'tis  a  man  who  farms  thy  land,  giv 
ing  thee  half  and  keeping  three  quarters  for 
himthelf." 

His  mother  laughed. 

"  Thou  hast  a  good  understanding  for  one  so 
young,  and  the  description  is  apt  enough  for 
most  tenants ;  but  how  sayst  thou  of  one  who 
would  give  thee  three  quarters  and  keep  only  one 
for  himself?" 

"  Why,  't  would  not  become  a  Calvert  to  drive 
such  a  bargain  with  such  a  poor  fool." 

"  Thou  art  not  far  wrong.  Share  and  share 
alike  is  fair  dealing  'twixt  land  and  labor,  and 

5° 


The  Lord  of  the  Manor 

so  let  it  be  between  thee  and  Sir  Christopher 
Neville." 

"  Thir  Chrithtopher  Neville  !  The  gentleman 
that  came  last  night  ?  Why,  he  ith  no  laborer. 
He  cannot  be  in  need  to  work  for  a  living." 

"  Nay,  Cecil,  't  is  a  labor  of  love." 

cc  There,  mother,  I  knew  he  liked  me,  for  all 
thou  saidst  my  borrowing  of  his  sword  and  cloak 
did  anger  him.  Every  one  likes  me.  Couthin 
Mary  says  so." 

"  Vain  popinjay  !  thou  art  too  credulous  of 
flattery." 

"  Would  Couthin  Mary  tell  a  lie  ?  " 

"  Never  mind  that  question  now,  but  don  thy 
best  clothing  for  the  ceremony  of  receiving  the 
homage  of  thy  tenant  this  morning." 

"  Hooray  !  Am  I  to  wear  my  morocco  shoes 
with  the  red  satin  roses  ?  " 

"  Ay." 

"  And  my  thilver-broidered  doublet  P  " 

"Ay,  little  peacock." 

"  And  my  stockings  with  the  clocks  of  gold  ? 
Oh,  Mother,  it  makes  me  feel  so  grand  !  I  like 
being  lord  of  the  manor.  And  Thir  Chrithtopher 
Neville  must  kneel  before  me ;  and  how  if  I 
tickle  him  on  the  neck  when  he  bends,  and  make 
him  laugh  out  before  them  all  ?  " 

cc  Cecil,  if  thou  dost  disgrace  me  by  any  of  thy 
clownish  pranks,  thou  and  I  will  never  be  friends 


Sir  Christopher 

more.  And  give  thyself  no  airs  either  with  this 
kind  new  friend.  Say  to  thyself,  when  he  bows 
before  thee,  that  it  is  strength  bending  to  weak 
ness,  and  pride  stooping  that  it  may  help  the 
helpless." 

"  Do  I  stand  on  the  platform  at  the  end  of  the 
hall  where  Couthin  Mary  stands  when  her  ten 
ants  come  in  ?  " 

"  Yes,  with  Cousin  Mary  and  me  beside  thee." 

"  I  hope  Thir  Chrithtopher  trips  on  the  step. 
But  I  like  him,  for  all  he  hath  the  eyes  of  a  hawk 
and  the  mouth  of  a  mastiff." 

"  Well  thou  mayst  like  him  !  Friends  like 
him  are  scarce  enough  anywhere,  and  most  of 
all  in  this  new  land.  Now  run  away  and  make 
haste  lest  we  vex  Cousin  Mary  by  our  tardiness, 
and  so  begin  awry  the  day  which  should  open 
with  all  good  omens.  But,  Cecil,  I  have  a  gift 
for  thee,  something  I  gave  thy  father  on  our 
marriage.  I  did  think  to  keep  it  till  thou 
shouldst  be  of  age  ;  but  on  the  whole  I  would 
rather  thou  hadst  it  to  remember  this  day  by." 

So  speaking,  Elinor  unlocked  her  jewel-chest 
of  black  oak  bound  with  brass,  and  drew  from 
within  a  pomander-box  of  gold,  the  under  lid 
pierced  with  holes  which  permitted  the  fragrance 
to  escape  till  it  nearly  filled  the  room  with  the 
mingled  odor  of  rose  attar  and  storax,  civet  and 
ambergris,  the  upper  lid  adorned  with  a  miniature 

52 


The  Lord  of  the  Manor 

of  Elinor  Calvert  painted  on  ivory  and  set  in 
pearls  like  the  picture  of  Cecil  which  she  wore  at 
her  breast.  The  artist  had  worked  as  one  who 
loves  his  task,  and  the  delicate  tints  of  neck  and 
arms  shone  half-veiled  by  the  creamy  lace  that 
fell  over  them.  In  the  golden  curls  a  red  rose 
nestled,  and  around  the  throat  glistened  a  neck 
lace  of  rubies. 

"  Mother!  "  exclaimed  Cecil,  "  wert  thou  once 
as  beautiful  as  that  ?  " 

Elinor  smiled  ;  but  it  was  not  quite  a  happy 
smile. 

"  Yes,  once  I  was  as  fair  as  that,  and  in  those 
days  there  were  many  to  care  whether  I  was  fair 
or  not.  Now  there  be  few  either  to  know  or 
care." 

"  Nay,  to  me  thou  art  still  fair,  Mother,  and 
there  is  another  who  thinks  so  too/' 

"Who  is  that?" 

"Thir  Chrithtopher.  I  saw  him  looking  at 
you  last  night,  and,  Mother,  dost  not  think, 
since  he  thinks  to  deal  so  generously  with  us,  it 
would  be  a  fine  thing  for  me  to  give  him  this 
portrait  of  thee  to  bind  the  bargain  ? " 

"Foolish  baby,  'twill  be  time  enough  to  think 
of  that  when  he  asks  for  it." 

"  Then  if  he  asks  for  it,  I  may  give  it  —  " 

"A  safe  promise  truly,"  said  Elinor,  smiling 
this  time  with  beaming  eyes  and  cheeks,  whose 

53 


Sir  Christopher 

rose  flush  matched  the  coloring  of  the  ivory  por 
trait.     "  Now  hasten  with  thy  dressing." 

Cecil's  head  was  so  filled  with  thoughts  of  the 
pomander-box  and  his  own  greatness  that  his 
mother  was  fully  dressed  while  he  sat  mooning 
over  the  lacing  of  his  hose  and  breeches,  and 
gazing  with  admiring  fondness  at  the  red  roses 
on  his  holiday  shoes. 

Three  times  Cousin  Mary  had  called  to  him  to 
make  haste,  and  when  at  last  he  entered  the  hall 
every  one  had  finished  eating,  and  he  was  sent  in 
disgrace  to  take  his  breakfast  in  the  buttery. 
This  was  too  great  a  blow  for  his  new-swollen 
pride,  and  he  fell  to  howling  lustily,  while  the 
tears  flowed  into  his  cup  of  milk  and  salted  it 
with  their  brine.  The  day  which  an  hour  ago 
had  been  one  glow  of  rose  color  all  arranged  as  a 
background  for  the  figure  of  Cecil  Calvert  in  his 
velvet  suit  and  gold-clocked  stockings,  had  be 
come  a  plain  Thursday  morning  in  which  a  little 
boy  was  crying  into  his  milk  in  a  bare  buttery 
hung  with  pails  and  pans. 

Suddenly  he  felt  a  strong  arm  thrown  over  his 
shoulder,  and  a  kind  voice  said  in  his  ear :  "  I 
have  been  late  more  than  once,  Cecil ;  but  it  will 
not  do  for  pioneers,  least  of  all  for  Little  John  or 
Robin  Hood." 

"  Go  away  ;  I  hate  thee,"  answered  the  amiable 
child. 

54 


The  Lord  of  the  Manor 

"  Dost  thou  truly  ?  and  why  ?  " 

"  Because  were  it  not  for  thee  I  had  not  put 
on  my  best  suit  with  the  troublesome  lacings,  and 
but  for  that  I  had  not  been  late,  and  but  for  that 
Couthin  Mary  had  not  been  vexed,  and  but  for 
that  Mother  had  not  punished  me." 

"  I  see  clearly  it  is  I  am  to  blame ;  and  now  if 
thou  hast  finished  thy  bread  and  milk  let  us  go 
and  ask  pardon  for  our — I  mean  my  fault,  and 
perhaps  we  shall  be  forgiven." 

Hand  in  hand  the  Lord  of  the  Manor  and  his 
tenant  sought  the  hall. 

As  they  walked  along  the  corridor,  Neville's 
face  wore  a  characteristic  smile.  This  smile  of  his 
seemed  to  begin  in  one  corner  of  his  mouth  and 
ripple  along  without  ever  quite  reaching  the  other, 
which,  to  tell  the  truth,  would  have  required  a 
goodly  journey.  There  was  a  certain  fascination 
in  the  smile  ;  but  one  who  would  fathom  its  mean 
ing  must  look  for  it,  not  in  the  lips  at  all,  but  in 
the  pucker  of  the  eyelids  and  the  gray  twinkle  of 
the  eyes  and  the  chuckle  that  lay  hid  somewhere 
in  the  little  creases  that  the  years  had  drawn  in 
diverging  lines  from  the  point  where  the  lids  met. 

If  Neville  was  amused  he  felt  no  need  of  pro 
claiming  the  fact.  A  sense  of  the  ridiculous 
marks  the  noisy  man,  wit  the  talkative  man ;  but 
humor  and  silence  have  a  strange  affinity,  and  a 
smile  needs  no  interpreter  to  itself. 

55 


Sir  Christopher 


"  Pray,  Mistress  Brent,"  said  Neville,  bowing 
before  his  hostess  when  they  reached  the  hall. 
"  wilt  thou  forgive  me  for  being  the  cause  that 
Master  Cecil  did  put  on  his  best  suit  with  the 
troublesome  lacings,  whereby  he  was  late  to  break 
fast  ?  " 

Mary  Brent,  being  a  literal  soul,  replied,  "  Why, 
't  was  not  thy  fault  at  all." 

"  Then,"  said  Neville,  "  let  the  offence  become 
a  fixed  charge  upon  the  estate,  which  I  as  tenant 
must  assume,  and  whereupon  I  promise  to  give  a 
breakfast  party  at  Robin  Hood's  Barn  to  those 
here  present  on  this  date  each  year  in  remem 
brance  of  this  day's  delinquency. 

"  As  for  thee,  Sir  Landlord,  I  will  give  thee  an 
Indian  bow  and  arrows,  that  thou  mayst  play 
Little  John,  and  when  thou  dost  come  a-hunting 
at  Robin  Hood's  Barn,  thou  mayst  work  havoc  at 
thy  will  among  the  heron  and  wild  duck  which  I 
am  told  do  specially  abound  on  the  shores  of  the 
bay." 

"  How  say  you,  Mistress  Brent,  are  the  terms 
accepted,  and  are  we  ready  for  the  ceremony  of 
investiture  ? " 

"  I  have  already  bidden  in  the  household,"  said 
Mary  Brent,  and  following  on  her  words  there 
came  filing  in  a  train  of  men  and  maid  servants, 
white  and  black,  all  arrayed  in  holiday  attire,  till 
the  lower  part  of  the  long  room  was  filled. 

56 


The  Lord  of  the  Manor 

"  'T  is  a  stately  ceremonial  thou  hast  planned/' 
said  Elinor,  smiling  at  her  cousin. 

"  Well  enough  !  "  Mary  Brent  answered,  veiling 
her  satisfaction  in  deprecation,  u  since  thou  hast 
as  yet  no  tenants,  and  canst  not  hold  a  court 
baron  at  Robin  Hood's  Barn.  I  would  Giles 
and  Leonard  Calvert  were  here,  for  in  truth  'tis 
as  goodly  a  show  as  we  have  held." 

The  tenantry  were  gathered. 

On  the  dais  stood  Cecil,  his  eyes  dancing  under 
the  page-cut  hair  which  fell  like  thatch  over  his 
forehead,  and  his  curls  tremulous  with  the  excite 
ment,  which  would  not  let  him  be  still  for  an 
instant.  Elinor  stood  beside  him  in  a  white 
dress  with  a  golden  girdle,  and  on  the  step  knelt 
Neville. 

Elinor  found  leisure  to  note  the  elegance  of 
the  jewelled  buckles  which  he  wore  on  his  shoes, 
and  that  his  collar  was  of  Venice  point.  It 
pleased  her  that  he  had  taken  as  much  trouble 
to  array  himself  for  his  investiture  as  he  would 
have  done  for  a  court  function. 

Of  what  was  Neville  thinking  as  he  knelt  there 
on  the  step  of  the  dais  ? 

Was  it  of  Cecil  and  his  manor  ? 

Not  at  all. 

Of  law  and  leases  ? 

Still  less. 

Of  what,  then? 

57 


Sir  Christopher 

Why,  of  the  tiny  point  of  a  lady's  slipper 
under  a  white  robe,  a  slipper  that  tempted  him 
to  bend  a  little  lower  still  and  kiss  it.  Would 
she  feel  it,  he  wondered  ?  Would  she  chide  him 
if  she  did?  Men  kissed  the  foot  of  a  saint  with 
out  blame.  If  the  adorable  is  to  be  adored 
and  the  lovable  to  be  loved,  why  was  not  the  kiss- 
able  to  be  kissed?  Besides,  —  only  a  slipper  ! 

He  was  in  the  hem-of-the-garment  stage  of 
his  passion,  and  fancied  himself  humble  in  his 
desire. 

"  Stretch  out  thy  rod,  Cecil  !  "  It  was  Elinor's 
voice  that  broke  in  on  Neville's  indecision. 

The  boy  reached  forth  the  stick  of  ebony  tipped 
with  silver  which  was  Baltimore's  gift  to  Mary 
Brent  on  her  coming  out  of  England.  Neville 
grasped  the  other  end,  and  smiling  at  Cecil,  with 
a  single  upward  glance  at  Elinor  bending  over 
him,  he  said,  — 

c<  Hear  you,  my  lord,  that  I,  Christopher  Nev 
ille,  shall  be  to  you  both  true  and  faithful,  and 
shall  owe  my  fidelity  to  you  for  the  land  I  hold  of 
you,  and  lawfully  shall  do  and  perform  such  cus 
toms  and  services  as  my  duty  is  to  you,  so  help 
me  God  and  all  His  saints." 

"  Amen  !  "  said  Father  White. 

cc  By  the  terms  assigned  I  do  promise  to  pay 
to  you  on  taking  possession  of  the  manor  at  Cecil 
Point  ten  Indian  arrows  and  a  string  of  fish,  and 

58 


The  Lord  of  the  Manor 

thereafter,  when  the  land  shall  be  cleared,  to  yield 
you  three  quarters  of  the  harvest  yearly.'* 

"Nay,"  interrupted  Cecil,  "'tis  not  the  bond 
mother  and  I  did  agree  upon ;  't  was  to  be  share 
and  share  alike.  Saidst  thou  not  so  in  bed  this 
morning,  Mother  ? " 

Before  Elinor  could  reply,  Father  White  spoke 
as  he  stepped  forward,  — 

"  The  case  may  be  happily  settled,  my.  daughter, 
by  the  yielding  of  the  quarter  in  dispute  to  the 
revenue  at  St.  Inigo's  for  the  benefit  of  Holy 
Church." 

The  mutinous  blood  rose  in  Neville's  cheeks 
and  his  chin  went  out  quarter  of  an  inch  ;  but  he 
held  his  peace  and  looked  toward  Elinor,  who  also 
colored  but  spoke  firmly, — 

"  Nay,  Father,  't  were  not  well  that  the  Church 
should  profit  by  an  injustice.  What  duty  Cecil 
hath  to  the  Church  is  for  thee  and  me  to  settle 
later,  but  it  must  come  from  -his  share  and  not 
from  Sir  Christopher's.  Now,  Cecil,  't  is  thy  turn 
to  make  thy  promise  to  thy  tenant.  Go  on :  c  I, 
CeciliusCalvert— '" 

"  Now,  Mother,"  said  the  young  landlord,  shak 
ing  off  the  admonishing  hand  from  his  shoulder 
with  a  petulance  for  which  a  young  Puritan  would 
have  been  roundly  punished,  "  if  thou  dost 
prompt  me  like  that  none  will  believe  I  know  my 
part,  and  I  have  learned  it  as  well  as  thou,  thus : 

59 


Sir  Christopher 

I,  Cecilius  Calvert,  do  hereby  accept  thee,  Chrith- 
topher  Neville,  as  my  tenant  at  Cecil  Point,  and 
promise  to  protect  thee  in  thy  rights  to  the  ex 
tent  of  the  law,  and  if  need  be  by  the  aid  of  my 
sword/' 

Neville  smiled  in  spite  of  himself  at  the  words, 
and  a  ripple  of  laughter  went  round  the  circle  of 
tenants  as  they  noted  the  comparative  size  of 
protector  and  protected  ;  but  Cecil  was  too  full 
of  his  new-fledged  dignity  to  heed  them.  He 
called  for  the  written  deed  and  the  candle  and 
the  wax,  and  on  the  oaken  table  he  scrawled 
his  name  under  those  of  his  mother  and  Sir 
Christopher,  and  then  taking  off  his  signet  ring 
—  't  was  his  father's  and  a  deal  too  wide  for  his 
chubby  ringer,  —  he  pressed  it  firmly  into  the 
wax  covering  the  seam  of  the  folded  paper,  and 
then  stood  looking  with  admiration  at  the  print 
of  the  crest ;  a  ducal  crown  surmounted  by  two 
half-bannerets.  "  'T  is  a  pretty  device,  is  it  not, 
Thir  Chrithtopher  ?  I  would  you  had  as  pretty 
a  one.  Mother,  if  Thir  Chrithtopher  Neville 
married  thee  would  he  bear  the  Calvert  crest  ?  " 

If  one  could  slay  one's  child  and  bring  him 
to  life  again  after  an  appropriate  interval  many 
of  us  might  be  tempted  to  infanticide.  A  great 
flame  of  anger  and  shame  rose  to  Elinor's  cheek ; 
but  Neville  came  to  her  assistance. 

"  Nay,  little  landlord,"  he  said  coolly,  "  no 
60 


The  Lord  of  the  Manor 

husband  of  thy  mother  could  bear  thy  crest. 
'T  is  for  thee,  as  the  only  heir  in  this  generation, 
to  bear  it  worthily  before  the  world.  Mistress 
Brent,  is  the  ceremony  ended?" 

"  Ay,  and  most  happily,"  said  Mary,  nervously, 
struggling  between  desire  to  laugh  and  cry ;  "  let 
us  have  in  the  cake  and  wine." 

The  servants  went  out  to  fetch  the  great  trays  of 
oaken  wood  with  rim  and  handles  of  silver  which 
had  been  in  the  Brent  family  for  generations.  As 
they  re-entered  in  procession,  —  for  Mary  Brent 
dearly  loved  form  and  ceremony,  and  kept  it  up 
even  here  in  the  wilderness,  —  a  knock  was  heard 
at  the  iron-studded  door. 

Being  flung  open  it  revealed  the  figure  of  a 
man,  a  tall,  slender  man  with  Saxon  flaxen  hair 
and  true  blue  eyes. 

"  Mistress  Brent  ? "  he  said  questioningly, 
looking  from  Mary  to  Elinor. 

"  1  am  she,"  said  Mary,  stepping  forward  and 
holding  out  her  hand  with  even  more  than  her 
usual  warmth  of  hospitality.  "  Can  I  be  of 
service  to  you  ?  " 

"  The  question  is,  rather,  are  you  willing  to  allow 
my  claim  upon  your  far-famed  hospitality  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  has  never  yet  been  denied  any  one." 

"  I  believe  it  well,  but  perhaps  no  one  ever 
yet  claimed  it  who  lay  under  such  a  shadow.  If 
you  consent  in  your  goodness  to  shelter  a 

61 


Sir  Christopher 

traveller,  you  must  know  that  you  are  harboring 
the  brother  of  Richard  Ingle." 

Mary  Brent  started,  for  her  brother  had  con 
fided  to  her  Richard  Ingle's  treasonable  speeches, 
and  in  her  eyes  treason  ranked  next  to  blasphemy 
among  the  unpardonable  sins.  For  an  instant 
she  hesitated  and  half  withdrew  her  hand,  then 
stretching  it  out  again  she  looked  full  at  him  and 
said,  — 

"  'T  were  a  pity  frank  truth-telling  like  yours 
should  cost  you  dear.  Let  me  ask  but  one 
question.  Do  you  hold  with  your  brother  in  his 
treason  ? " 

A  pained  look  came  into  Ralph  Ingle's  eyes. 
"  Lady,"  he  said,  "  't  is  a  hard  matter  to  hear  or 
speak  evil  of  one's  brother  —  one's  only  brother." 
His  lip  trembled,  but  the  voice  rang  clear  and 
steady.  "  Yet  when  the  time  comes  to  choose 
between  brotherly  affection  and  one's  duty  to 
King  and  Commonwealth,  the  knot  must  be 
cut  though  the  blood  flows.  So  I  told  Richard 
yesterday,  there  on  the  deck  of  tfhe  Reformation^ 
and  hereafter  we  have  sworn  to  forget  that  the 
same  father  called  us  both  son." 

"  You  speak  like  a  true  man,"  said  Mary 
Brent,  "  and  shall  be  taken  at  your  word.  You 
find  us  celebrating  the  tenancy  of  Sir  Christopher 
Neville  yonder,  who  is  taking  up  land  of  Mistress 
Calvert  and  her  son. 

62 


The  Lord  of  the  Manor 

"  Elinor,  this  is  Master  Ingle.  Judge  him  on. 
his  deeds  —  not  his  name  !  " 

Ingle  swept  the  ground  with  the  plumes  of  his 
hat  before  Elinor  as  he  murmured,  — 

"  Nay,  rather  judge  me  of  your  own  gentleness, 
and  let  mercy  temper  the  verdict." 

Neville  stood,  looking  coldly  at  the  intruder. 
He  was  jealous,  for  he  saw  the  light  of  a  new 
interest  dawning  in  Elinor  Calvert  's  face,  and  he 
saw  the  hot,  passionate  light  of  love  at  first  sight 
as  clear  as  day  in  Ralph  Ingle's  eyes. 

For  the  first  time  he  was  conscious  with  angry 
protest  that  he  was  growing  old.  His  cast-down 
glance  fell  upon  his  grizzled  mustachios,  and  he 
inwardly  cursed  the  sign  of  age.  "  The.  conceited 
stripling ! "  he  muttered,  as  he  looked  at  the 
bowing  golden  curls.  "  I  know  I  am  not 
just.  I  have  no  ambition  to  be  just.  I  hate 
him.  Come,  Cecil,"  he  said,  crossing  over  to 
where  the  child  stood  holding  a  wine  cup  in  one 
hand  and  a  distressingly  large  slice  of  fruit  cake 
in  the  other,  "  thou  and  I  have  no  larger  part  to 
play  here  than  the  cock  in  Hamlet." 

"  What  part  did  he  play  ?  "  asked  Cecil,  crowd 
ing  his  mouth  with  plums,  while  he  held  the 
remaining  cake  high  above  his  head  to  escape 
Knut's  jumping. 

"  Oh,  the  important  office  was  his  to  announce 
the  daybreak  and  put  an  end  to  the  ghost's  walk- 

63 


Sir  Christopher 


ing.  Do  ghosts  walk  nowadays  dost  thou  think, 
Cecil  ?  " 

"  Sure." 

"  I  think  so  too  ;  I  have  seen  them,  —  in  fact, 
I  feel  sometimes  as  if  I  were  one  of  them." 

"  Art  thou  really  ?  "  Cecil's  eyes  were  round 
as  saucers. 

"  Well,  never  mind  that  question  just  now. 
Perhaps  I  am  —  perhaps  I  am  not ;  do  thou 
drain  thy  wine,  and  let  us  be  off  outside  to  build 
a  snow-man  in  the  road." 

Nothing  loath,  the  child  slipped  his  hand  into 
the  big,  muscular  one  held  out  to  him,  and  unob 
served  by  the  preoccupied  group  around  the  fire, 
they  slipped  out. 

Ralph  Ingle  turned  as  they  passed  him.  £C  I 
must  watch  that  man,"  he  thought.  "  He  who 
takes  a  child  by  the  hand  takes  the  mother  by 
the  heart." 

"  Wait,"  said  Cecil  at  the  door.  "  I  must 
doff  my  finery,  for  who  knows  when  I  may  need 
it  to  receive  another  tenant  ?  " 

"  Prudent  lad !  I  will  do  the  same,  lest  I  catch 
the  fever  and  then  thou  must  needs  seek  a  new 
tenant.  But,  Cecil,  promise  me  one  thing." 

"Ay,  a  dozen  if  you  wish." 

"  Promise  me  that,  whatever  tenants  thou 
mayst  have  hereafter,  thou  wilt  like  me  best." 

"  Why,  so  I  will,  especially  if  you  give  me 
64 


The  Lord  of  the  Manor 

the  bow  and  arrows  you  promised.  I  liked  you 
right  away  last  night,  and  mother  likes  you,  and 
Cousin  Mary  likes  you,  and  Father  White  likes 
you  a  little  ;  but  I  '11  tell  you  who  doth  not." 

"  Let  us  hear,  then  ;  who  is  he  that  has  such 
poor  taste  in  likings  ?  " 

"  Father  Mohl." 

"  Why  do  you  think  that?  " 

"  He  thmiled  at  you." 

"  Oh  !  Is  that  a  bad  sign  with  the  reverend 
Mohl." 

"You  mutht  not  call  him  that  —  you  mutht 
call  him  holy  Father.  But  you  are  right,  it  is  a 
bad  sign  when  he  smiles  that  way.  It  is  how  he 
looks  when  he  complains  to  Mother  of  me,  and 
gets  me  a  whipping.  Father  White  smiles  like  a 
kind  old  pussy-cat ;  but  Father  Mohl  smiles  like 
a  wolf." 

"  But  thou  wilt  stand  my  friend  even  if  Father 
Mohl  like  me  not  ?  " 

"  Pooh,  that  makes  no  difference  !  " 

"  And  thou  wilt  help  thy  mother  to  go  on 
liking  me  ?  " 

"  Yes.  She  does  everything  I  ask  her  to,  and 
I  '11  tell  her  you  are  going  to  be  my  best  friend." 

"  I  thank  thee." 

"  Well,  you  are,  you  know.  Of  course  you  are 
rather  old  and  somewhat  plain,  and  I  cannot 
promise  not  to  think  Master  Ingle  within  there 
5  65 


Sir  Christopher 

is  handsomer,  but  I  shall  always  like  you  best, 
and  beauty  doth  not  count  when  you  know  a 
person." 

"  No,  but  't  is  an  amazing  good  letter  of  intro 
duction.  Now  fly  up  and  change  to  thine  old 
suit  and  we  will  build  a  snow-man  as  high  as  the 
window  and  we  will  put  curls  on  him  as  long  as 
those  on  that  jackanapes  inside  —  I  mean  as 
those  of  the  beautiful  young  man  who  calls  him 
self  Ralph  Ingle." 

When  Cecil  had  changed  to  his  every-day 
clothes  he  came  down  again  looking  more  com 
fortable  in  mind  and  body.  "  I  think,"  he  con 
fided  to  Neville,  "  that  I  could  eat  another  piece 
of  cake.  The  belt  of  this  doublet  is  so  much 
looser  than  in  my  best." 

"  Ay,  but  there  is  dinner  to  come,  and  't  is  best 
to  make  allowance  for  this  future ;  besides,  who 
is  this  at  the  wharf  in  the  in-bound  boat  ?  " 

"Why,  'tis  Couthin  Margaret." 

"  So  it  is.  For  a  moment  I  thought  her  a 
man  in  that  long  cloak  and  those  heavy  boots. 
Let  us  go  down  to  meet  her  !  " 

When  they  reached  the  dock,  the  man  in  the 
ketch  was  already  clewing  up  the  sails,  while  the 
woman  on  the  wharf  stood  giving  orders.  At 
the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps  she  turned. 

Despite  her  rough  attire  and  forty-odd  years, 
Margaret  Brent  was  a  woman  worth  looking  at. 

66 


The  Lord  of  the  Manor 

Her  personality  was  marked  by  a  noble  largeness 
which  obliterated  detail,  and  cast  a  mantle  of 
oblivion  over  defects.  The  first  impression 
made  upon  all  who  came  in  contact  with  her  was 
of  her  adequacy  to  the  situation  before  her, 
whether  it  was  a  rout  or  a  riot.  This  it  was 
which  a  few  years  later  won  her  the  thanks  of  the 
Maryland  Assembly  for  her  prompt  action  in  a 
political  crisis,  which  led  her  kinsman  to  leave 
her  sole  executrix  of  his  great  estate  with  the 
brief  instruction,  "Take  all  —  pay  all!"  and 
which,  finally,  before  her  death  made  her  the  most 
famous  woman  in  the  colony. 

Through  all  the  vicissitudes  of  pioneer  life 
she  kept  the  air  and  bearing  of  race.  Even 
now,  though  a  wave  of  gray  wind-blown  hair  had 
escaped  from  her  hood,  and  her  falling  band  was 
pulled  awry,  yet  no  princess  in  full  regalia  could 
have  been  more  the  great  lady  than  she  as  she 
came  forward  to  meet  Cecil  and  his  companion. 

"Sir  Christopher,  I  greet  you.  I  would  I 
had  known  of  your  coming  yesterday  that  I 
might  have  had  your  company  and  protection." 

Neville  bowed,  smiling.  "  The  advantage  of 
both  would  have  been  on  my  side,  for  Mistress 
Brent's  prowess  is  a  byword." 

"  Say  they  so  indeed !  "  Margaret  answered 
without  attempt  at  disclaimer  and  with  a  smile 
which  showed  her  strong  white  teeth,  "  I  am 

6? 


Sir  Christopher 

glad  of  that,  for  I  may  need  the  repute  in  the 
near  future.  Sorry  was  I  to  hear  that  you  had 
thoughts  of  taking  up  land  in  this  part  of  the 
country  and  deserting  Kent  Fort.  I  count  you 
the  strongest  man  we  have  among  us,  and  since 
Claiborne's  rebellious  efforts  we  need  all  the  help 
we  can  claim.  'T  is  in  regard  to  this  that  I  have 
followed  my  brother  hither." 

"  I  am  sorry  ;  but  I  fear  you  must  meet  dis 
appointment.  He  has  been  called  to  St.  Mary's 
by  troubles  over  Dick  Ingle.  He  may  return 
to-morrow." 

"  Nay,  if  he  comes  not  back  to-day  I  must 
turn  out  the  trainband  on  my  own  responsi 
bility.  The  matter  will  not  keep." 

"  You  should  be  made  a  captain." 

"  Not  I  !  I  am  too  wise  for  that.  The  cap 
tain  must  give  place  to  the  colonel,  and  the 
colonel  to  the  general ;  but  the  woman  is  above 
them  all,  and  what  men  would  never  yield  of 
their  obstinacy  to  equality,  they  will  oft  give  up 
of  their  courtesy  to  her  weakness.  Besides,  men 
never  forget  the  obedience  to  women  they  learn 
at  their  mother's  knee  —  or  over  it  — 

"  Is  it  not  so,  Father  ?  "  she  went  on,  turning 
to  Father  White,  who  had  joined  them.  "  Have 
I  not  heard  thee  say  any  one  might  have  the 
training  of  a  child  after  seven  if  thou  couldst 
have  the  teaching  of  him  till  then  ?  " 

68 


The  Lord  of  the  Manor 

"  Ay,  't  is  so  —  though  this  boy  may  not  do 
so  much  credit  to  my  teaching  as  I  could  wish ;  " 
and  he  pinched  Cecil's  ear,  laughing. 

"  He  is  too  busy  keeping  his  body  a-growing, 
I  fancy,  to  pay  much  heed  to  his  soul.  How 
say  you,  Cecil,  —  wilt  thou  lend  me  those  cheeks 
of  thine  for  cushions  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  the  child,  gravely,  "  elthe 
how  could  I  keep  my  food  in  when  I  eat  ? 
Let  me  go  !  I  mutht  tell  Couthin  Mary  thou 
art  come.  I  dearly  love  to  be  the  firtht  to  tell 
newth." 

But  this  time  he  was  too  late,  for  Mary  had 
caught  sight  of  the  group,  and  came  running  down 
the  path. 

"  Oh,  Margaret,  but  I  am  glad  to  see  thee ! 
Bless  thine  heart,  how  thou  art  blown  !  I  have 
great  need  of  thy  counsel.  I  must  have  thee 
tell  me  if  the  pickles  want  sweetening,  and  if  the 
stockade  be  high  enough,  and  how  many  cattle  I 
should  order  out  of  England  —  " 

"  Why  hast  not  asked  Giles  all  these  things  ? " 

"  Why,  Giles  is  so  great  a  man  he  will  give  no 
heed  to  small  things,  but  puts  them  off  with  a 
c  Presently  —  presently  — ' ' 

"  Ay,  and  if  he  have  not  a  care,  this  c  Presently, 
presently*  will  cost  him  dear.  In  a  new  land 
least  of  all  can  we  afford  to  despise  the  day  of 
small  things.  —  Ah  !  there  is  my  Cousin  Elinor!" 

69 


Sir  Christopher 

She  broke  off,  seeing  Mistress  Calvert  in  the 
doorway. 

The  two  women  did  not  altogether  harmonize. 
They  were  too  much  alike,  and  neither  cared  for 
her  own  type.  Both  loved  to  dominate  men, 
though  neither  would  have  owned  it.  Elinor  had 
early  chosen  the  heart  as  her  sphere  of  influence, 
and  Margaret  Brent  the  mind.  It  was  in  the 
border  land  that  they  clashed.  Yet,  had  either 
been  asked,  especially  when  separated,  who  was 
the  noblest  woman  she  knew,  one  would  have 
said  "  Elinor  Calvert,"  the  other,  "  Margaret 
Brent." 

"  Come  in,"  said  Elinor,  as  she  kissed  her 
cousin's  cheek.  "  Come  in  and  share  the  feast 
set  out  in  honor  of  Sir  Christopher  Neville,  Cecil's 
new  tenant,  at  Robin  Hood's  Barn." 

"  I  knew  thou  wouldst  have  him." 

"Verily  ?  then  thou  didst  know  more  than  I." 

"  No  doubt  —  'tis  the  privilege  of  the  looker- 
on.  Besides,  I  knew  thy  business  head,  which  is 
better  than  one  would  think  to  watch  thine  im 
pulsive  bearing,  and  none  but  a  fool  would  let 
such  a  tenant  as  Christopher  Neville  slip  through 
her  fingers." 

Elinor  reddened. 

"  Nay,  now  I  see  I  have  said  somewhat  amiss, 
but  the  time  is  too  short  to  find  out  what,  so 
forgive  my  sins  in  the  bulk,  and  believe  that  I 

70 


The  Lord  of  the  Manor 

do  love  thee  much  for  all  we  fit  not  always  in 
our  moods.  Mary,  if  thou  hast  something  hot 
for  the  inner  man,  prithee  let  me  have  it,  for  I 
am  well-nigh  starved  and  frozen." 

To  herself  she  said,  "  Neville  is  in  love  with 
Elinor  Calvert — foolish  man!  She  means  to 
use  him  —  wise  woman  !  " 

Which  proves  that  a  clever  observer  may  be 
too  clever,  and  see  both  more  and  less  than  there 
is  to  be  seen. 

Neville,  after  watching  the  women  enter  the 
house  with  Cecil  hanging  to  his  mother's  gown, 
strode  down  the  path  with  head  thrown  back,  and 
the  glint  of  a  firm  purpose  shining  from  between 
his  narrowed  lids. 


CHAPTER   V 

PEGGY 

GILES  BRENT  was  not  in  an  enviable 
frame  of  mind  on  this  January  morn 
ing,  after  his  visit  to  St.  Gabriel's 
manor.  The  gold  lace  on  his  coat,  marking  his 
rank  as  deputy-governor  of  Maryland,  covered 
an  anxious  heart,  and  as  he  walked  along  the 
path  over  the  bluff  in  the  village  of  St.  Mary's 
he  twirled  the  gold-tipped  lacings  of  his  doublet, 
and  cursed  his  fate  in  being  caught  in  this  coil 
of  colonial  politics,  and  wished  his  cousin  Leonard 
Calvert  would  come  home  from  England  and  at 
tend  to  his  own  business. 

Why,  all  of  a  sudden,  was  his  brow  cleared  of 
its  furrows,  and  his  mind  of  its  worries  for  the 
moment  ?  Because  he  had  caught  sight  at  a 
window  of  a  girl's  face,  —  a  faulty,  charming  face 
with  velvet  brown  eyes,  and  hair  that  shook  a 
dusky  glamour  over  them,  —  the  face  of  Peggy 
Neville. 

This  Peggy  was  a  born  coquette  —  not  of  the 
type  that  sets  its  cap  at  a  man  as  obviously  as  a 

72 


Peggy     •".-:• 

boy  casts  the  net  for  butterflies,  but  a  toquette 
by  instinct,  full  of  contradictory  impulses,  with 
eyes  that  whispered  "  Come  !  "  even  while  blush 
and  frown  cried  "  Halt  !  "  —  with  the  gaiety  of 
a  flight  of  larks,  alternating  with  pouts  and  tears 
as  sudden  and  violent  as  a  summer  thunder- 
shower.  Such  a  girl  has  often  a  peculiar  charm 
for  an  older  man,  who  looks  on  amused  at  her 
coquetries,  and  finds  her  friendship  as  firm  as  her 
loves  are  fickle.  Between  Governor  Brent  and 
Peggy  Neville  such  a  friendship  was  established, 
and  it  was  with  a  delight  dimpling  into  smiles 
that  she  threw  wide  the  window,  and  leaning  out 
into  the  frosty  air,  cried  out  joyously, — 

"  Good-morning,  your  Excellency  !  Do  you 
bring  any  news  of  that  good-for-nothing  brother 
of  mine?" 

The  governor  shook  his  sword  at  her. 

"  I  will  have  you  in  the  sheriff's  hands  if  you 
speak  so  lightly  of  my  close  friend,"  he  answered. 
cc  Is  your  aunt  at  home  ?" 

"  No,  but  my  aunt's  niece  is,  and  much  ex 
ercised  to  hear  the  news  from  Kent  Fort.  So 
prithee  come  in  and  rest  awhile." 

Brent  entered  at  a  door  so  low  that  he  was 
compelled  to  bow  his  tall  head. 

"  The  news  of  most  interest  to  you,"  he  said, 
seating  himself  by  the  fire,  "  comes  not  from 
Kent  Fort,  but  from  St.  Gabriel's  Manor,  which 

73 


Sir  Christopher 

I  left  just  before  the  expected  arrival  of  that 
aforesaid  good-for-nothing  brother  of  yours,  who 
is  in  treaty  with  me  for  the  manor  at  Cecil  Point, 
which  Baltimore  christened  Robin  Hood's  Barn 
when  he  made  a  grant  of  it  to  Mistress  Elinor 
Calvert.  The  lady  is  staying  with  my  sister 
Mary  at  present." 

"  You  have  just  come  from  St.  Gabriel's  ?  " 
queried  Peggy,  "  and  just  seen  Mistress  Calvert  ? 
Then  pray  tell  me  all  about  her.  She  is  very,  very 
handsome,  they  say  —  " 

"  Then  for  once  they  say  truth.  I  have  seen 
her  enter  the  gallery  at  The  Globe  when  all  the 
gallants  on  the  stage  rose  to  catch  sight  of  her, 
and  I  have  seen  the  London  street-sweepers  fol 
low  her  for  a  mile.  There  's  beauty  for  you  !  " 

"  And  she  is  very  wise  too  ?  " 

"  Ay,  as  good  a  head  for  affairs  as  mine,  and  I 
think  no  small  things  of  mine  own  abilities." 

"  And  she  is  virtuous  and  tender  and  true  ?  " 

"  The  tenderest  of  mothers,  and  the  loyalest 
of  kinswomen." 

Peggy  cast  down  her  long-fringed  eyes  and 
studied  the  pointed  toes  of  her  red  slippers.  At 
length  looking  up  timidly  she  asked,  — 

"  Think  you  I  could  ever  be  like  her  ?  " 

Giles  Brent  burst  out  into  a  great  laugh. 

"  Oh —  not  in  beauty  !  "  Peggy  rushed  on,  all 
in  confusion  —  "  not  in  beauty,  of  course,  nor  in 

74 


Peggy 

mind,  but  could  I  make  my  character  like  hers  ? 
You  see,  Christopher  has  always  told  me  how 
perfect  she  was,  and  said  how  proud  he  should  be 
to  see  me  like  her." 

"  Christopher  !  "  exclaimed  Brent. 

"  Oho  !  "  he  thought  to  himself,  "  so  the  wind 
blows  from  that  quarter,  does  it  ?  That  explains 
many  things.  But  why  under  heaven  did  he 
conceal  the  whole  business  from  me  ?  " 

Aloud  he  said:  "Never  mind  what  Christopher 
tells  you,  pretty  Peggy  !  Take  my  advice  and 
do  not  waste  your  time  in  trying  to  be  like  this 
one  or  that,  —  not  even  my  Cousin  Elinor.  You 
have  gifts  and  graces  all  your  own.  Make  the 
most  of  them,  and  let  the  others  go.  Who  is 
that  outside  the  door  ?  I  thought  I  knew  every 
man  in  St.  Mary's,  at  least  by  sight." 

"  That  ?  "  said  Peggy,  looking  out  at  the  win 
dow  with  a  fine  show  of  indifference,  and  then 
moving  hastily  nearer  the  fire,  "  that  is  no  citizen 
of  St.  Mary's,  but  a  young  Virginian  in  command 
of  the  ketch  Lady  Betty  from  the  York  River." 

"  And  his  name  ?  " 

"  Romney  Huntoon." 

"  Huntoon  —  ?  I  wonder  who  his  father  is. 
Know  you  anything  of  his  family  ?  " 

"  No,  save  that  his  father  was  a  physician 
once  and  won  great  reputation  somehow,  and  his 
mother  was  a  daughter  of  Sir  William  Romney, 

75 


Sir  Christopher 

and  heiress  to  a  fortune,  wherewith  they  bought 
wide  tracts  of  land  on  the  York  River,  and  live, 
'tis  said,  in  more  state  than  any  in  Virginia  save 
Governor  Berkeley  himself." 

cc  Ah,  now  I  place  him.  He  was  head  of 
Flower  da  Hundred  at  the  time  of  the  massacre, 
and  since  has  risen  to  be  a  member  of  the  Vir 
ginia  House  of  Burgesses.  I  would  like  to  speak 
with  this  young  man.  Is  that  his  knock  at  the 
door  ?  " 

"I  —  I  think  it  may  be,"  hesitated  Peggy. 
"  He  brought  a  letter  from  his  mother  to  my 
aunt,  who  knew  her  in  their  youth  at  home  in 
Devonshire." 

Hard  upon  her  remarks  a  young  man  entered 
the  room,  and  stood  hesitating  in  the  doorway  as 
if  loath  to  venture  further  without  assurance  of 
welcome. 

He  was  a  colty  youth,  with  long  legs  and 
slim  body,  and  hands  and  feet  that  had  not 
learned  the  repose  of  maturity.  He  had  also  a 
shock  of  dark  curls,  and  under  arching  brows  a 
pair  of  merry  blue  eyes  that  danced  when  any 
thing  pleased  him  beyond  the  common,  like  the 
sun  on  Easter  morning,  while  under  their  surface 
mirth  lay  steadfast  depths  which  bade  fair  to  en 
dure  when  their  dancing  days  were  over. 

Just  now  there  was  more  of  anxiety  than  mirth 
in  them  as  they  turned  toward  the  slip  of  a  girl 

76 


Peggy 

by  the  hearth,  as  timid  a  glance  as  if  she  were  the 
Shah  of  Persia  and  he  a  humble  subject  in  terror 
of  the  bowstring. 

"Come  in!"  vouchsafed  Peggy,  —  but  with 
some  impatience  in  her  voice,  for  she  had  not  yet 
begun  on  the  list  of  questions  she  had  prepared 
for  her  other  visitor. 

"  Governor  Brent,  this  is  Master  Romney 
Huntoon.  Master  Huntoon,  I  have  the  honor 
to  present  you  to  Governor  Brent."  Both  men 
bowed,  the  younger  man  lower. 

"  I  fancy,"  said  Brent,  "  that  I  am  not  wrong 
in  taking  you  for  the  son  of  that  Humphrey 
Huntoon  whose  good  repute  has  travelled  be 
yond  the  limits  of  his  own  province,  and  become 
familiar  to  us  dwellers  across  the  borders." 

Romney  Huntoon  blushed  with  pleasure  and 
secretly  treasured  up  the  words  to  say  over  to  his 
mother  ;  but  he  received  them  with  some  dis 
composure.  To  tell  the  truth,  it  is  not  an  easy 
matter  to  meet  a  compliment  for  one's  relative ; 
the  disclaimers  wherewith  a  man  may  receive 
such  for  himself  not  quite  fitting  the  situation, 
yet  consanguinity  seeming  to  demand  a  corres 
ponding  degree  of  modesty. 

"  My  father  will  feel  deeply  honored,"  he 
murmured,  and  lost  the  end  he  had  fashioned 
for  his  speech  in  watching  a  curl  that  had  fallen 
forward  over  Peggy  Neville's  ear. 

77 


Sir  Christopher 

Brent  was  too  much  occupied  with  his  own 
thoughts  to  heed  the  break  in  the  young  man's 
reply. 

"  You  have  been  at  St.  Mary's  for  some 
days  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  A  week  yesterday,  your  Excellency." 
"  And  spent  much  time  on  the  wharf? " 
"  The   better  part   of  every  day,  overlooking 
first  the  unloading  of  the  tobacco,  and  then  the 
getting  aboard  of  the  farm  implements  and  house 
hold  stuff  I  am  to  carry  back  to  Romney." 

"  Hm  !  Perhaps,  then,  you  were  witness  to  the 
—  the  unpleasantness  that  fell  out  betwixt  Captain 
Ingle  and  Reuben  Early." 

"  Ay,  sir  —  I  saw  the  blow  struck." 
"  Of  your  kindness,  tell  me  how  it  all  fell  out. 
The  village  folk  are  so  hot  over  the  matter  't  is 
passing  hard  to   get  a  clear   story   from   any   of 
them.     Was  Richard  Ingle  drunk  or  sober?  " 

"  Why,  not  fully  the  one  or  the  other,  I  should 
say ;  but  more  as  one  who  has  been  in  his  cups 
overnight  and  is  at  odds  with  the  world  next 
morning." 

cc  And  Reuben  Early  —  was  he  in  liquor  too  ?  " 
"  Truth,  I  think  Early  was  a  bit  the  worse  for 
beer,  for  he  was  continually  dropping  the  sacks 
with  which  he  was  loading  the  vessel  under  Ingle's 
direction,  and  when  one  slipped  into  the  water, 
instead  of  making  excuse  for  himself,  he  threw 

78 


Peggy 

up   his   silly  cap  and   shouted,    "  God  save   the 
King  and  Prince  Rupert !  " 
"  Fool !  " 

"  Ay,  't  was  enough  to  anger  any  man,  and  it 
seemed  to  drive  Ingle  mad  with  passion.  c  The 
King  ! '  he  cried  ;  c  I  'd  have  you  know  your  King 
is  no  king ;  and  as  for  Prince  Rupert,  if  I  had  him 
here  he  should  be  flogged  at  the  capstan  ! '  Then 
turning  to  Early,  whose  mouth  was  agape  at  such 
treasonable  utterances,  he  let  fly  a  bucket  he  had 
in  his  hand,  and  hit  Early  full  in  the  head,  knock 
ing  him  over  like  an  ox.  If  Early  had  picked  him 
self  up  and  returned  the  blow  I  'd  had  some 
sympathy  for  him,  but  instead  he  went  off  whim 
pering  and  vowing  he  'd  make  complaint  and 
have  Ingle  under  arrest  before  night." 

"A    pestilent    fellow    that    Ingle!"    muttered 
Brent ;  "  I  'd  have  him  in  irons  this  day  were  it 
not  for  the  trouble  over  seas ;  but  with  King  and 
Parliament  at  loggerheads  we  must  be  civil  with 
both    and   Ingle    hath    powerful    friends  in   high 
places    among    the    Roundheads.       But     of  the 
quarrel  — did    you    see    Richard    Ingle    after?" 
"  Nay,  but  I  believe  he  is  still  on  The  Reforma 
tion,   though   some  say  he    was  seen  to    board  a 
ship  that  sailed  yesterday  for  New  Netherland, 
and 'tis  known  the  Ingles  are  on  good  terms  with 
Governor  Stuyvesant,  who  hath  the  Dutch  hatred 
of  papists." 

79 


Sir  Christopher 

"  For  the  matter  o'  that,"  said  Brent,  with  some 
bitterness,  "  he  need  not  have  gone  further  afield 
than  across  the  river.  He  would  have  found 
enough  Catholic-haters  in  Virginia  to  protect  him." 

"  We  may  be  over  zealous,  your  Excellency," 
the  young  man  answered,  "  but  we  do  not  coun 
tenance  evil-doers,  and  'twere  hard  to  find  in 
Maryland  a  cavalier  who  has  the  King's  cause 
more  at  heart  than  Sir  William  Berkeley." 

"  You  say  truth,  Master  Huntoon,  and  do  well 
to  maintain  the  honor  of  your  province  against  all 
slander.  My  regards  to  Sir  William  Berkeley 
when  you  return  —  and  when  is  that  to  be  ?  " 

"In  two  or  three  days  at  furthest  now.  The 
ketch  is  already  loaded  and  I  tarry  only  from 
hour  to  hour." 

"  May  the  ketch  and  all  your  other  ventures 
come  safe  to  shore  !  "  said  Brent,  rising  and  taking 
the  hand  of  Huntoon. 

"  Mistress  Neville,  I  will  see  you  again  before 
my  return  to  St.  Gabriel's,  and  charge  myself  with 
any  message  you  may  wish  to  send." 

With  this  adieu  the  Governor  took  his  leave. 
The  young  people,  who  had  risen  with  him,  still 
stood  facing  each  other  in  silence,  now  that  they 
were  alone. 

"  Why  do  you  not  take  a  chair  once  more  ?  " 
asked  Peggy,  fingering  the  border  of  her  flowered 

lawn  apron. 

80 


Peggy 

"I  have  not  been  asked/'  Huntoon  responded. 

"  I  feared  to  detain  you  from  business  of  more 
importance/'  murmured  the  little  hypocrite. 

"  Mistress  Neville,"  said  Romney,  "  I  have 
known  you  but  seven  days/' 

"  Is  it  really  so  long  ?  "  asked  Peggy,  demurely 
looking  out  at  him  from  behind  the  protecting 
curtain  of  her  long  lashes. 

"  So  long  !  "  exclaimed  the  youth.  He  was 
only  twenty,  and  the  power  to  receive  and  parry 
comes  later  to  men  than  to  girls. 

Even  Peggy  Neville  felt  a  twinge  of  compunc 
tion  at  his  throwing  himself  thus  upon  her  mercy. 
"  They  have  been  pleasant  days,"  she  continued, 
"  and  therefore  by  all  the  laws  of  life  should  have 
seemed  short." 

"  Why,  so  they  have  !  "  the  boy  rushed  on, — 
"  short  as  a  flash  of  lightning  in  the  passing,  long 
as  July  sunlight  in  the  thinking  over;  and  now 
they  are  drawing  to  an  end,  somehow  a  darkness 
seems  to  fall  around  me.  When  I  think  of 
sailing  down  the  river,  away  from  the  sight  of 
the  huddle  of  cottages,  from  the  great  cross  in 
the  centre  of  the  village,  from  the  glimpse  of 
this  little  window  that  gives  on  the  wharf,  my 
heart  sinks." 

"  I  wonder  why,"  said  Peggy  ;  but  this  time 
she  did  not  look  at  him. 

"  May  I  tell  you  ?  " 
6  81 


Sir  Christopher 

"  No,  no  —  of  course  not,"  the  girl  hastened 
to  say  in  a  quick,  business-like  voice.  "  'T  is  no 
affair  of  mine  to  pry  into  the  feelings  of  all  the 
young  men  who  come  to  St.  Mary's.  Besides, 
here  comes  my  aunt,  and  she  will  be  more  con 
cerned  to  bring  out  wine  and  seed-cake  for  your 
entertainment  than  to  hear  of  your  regrets  at 
parting.  However,"  the  tease  went  on  wickedly, 
"  if  it  would  relieve  your  mind  to  tell  her  I  will 
bring  the  subject  before  her." 

Romney  stood  still,  and  looked  at  her  without 
a  word.  She  had  hurt  him  beyond  the  power  of 
speech.  This  first  love  of  his,  which  he  had  been 
cherishing  by  day  and  brooding  over  by  night 
for  a  whole  week,  seemed  to  him  to  overshadow  the 
world,  and  that  she,  the  lady  of  his  dreams,  should 
be  the  one  to  make  light  of  it  was  past  bearing. 

"  c  All  the  young  men  who  come  to  St.  Mary's,' " 
he  repeated  to  himself  as  he  strode  down  the  street. 
"  So  to  her  I  am  no  more  than  one  of  the  crowd  of 
gallants  who  hang  about  the  corners  and  cast  eyes 
at  the  girls  in  the  little  church  o'  Sundays.  Oh, 
but  I  will  make  her  give  me  a  serious  thought 
yet !  She  shall  know  that  it  is  not  a  ball  she 
holds  in  her  hands,  to  be  tossed  about  and  caught 
and  thrown  away,  but  a  man's  heart." 

Then,  as  he  recalled  that  dimpling  face  and 
those  eyelashes  sweeping  the  rich  red  cheek,  he 
smiled  in  spite  of  himself,  and  fell  to  thinking 

82 


Peggy 

of  a  little  song  his  mother  had  sung  to  him 
years  ago,  a  song  of  another  capricious  damsel, 
mightily  like  this  provoking  Peggy, — 

«'  He  kissed  her  once,  he  kissed  her  twice, 

Though  oft  she  coyly  said  him  nay; 
Mayhap  she  let  him  kiss  her  thrice 
Before  she  bade  him  go  away  — 
Singing  heigh-ho  ! 
Whether  or  no, 
Kiss  me  again  before  you  go, 
Under  the  trees  where  the  pippins  grow." 

As  he  reached  the  widening  of  the  street  in 
front  of  the  Indian  wigwam  transformed  into  a 
little  chapel  and  dedicated  to  Our  Lady,  he  was 
struck  with  the  number  of  people  standing  and 
walking  about.  It  was  like  an  ant-hill  suddenly 
emptied  of  its  toilers.  Then  he  recalled  that 
it  was  market  day  at  St.  Mary's,  and  that  the 
village  was  all  agog  over  Dick  Ingle.  Women 
stood  at  the  door  of  their  pioneer  cabins,  their 
arms  akimbo,  and  their  heads  bare  regardless  of 
the  winter  winds,  giving  and  getting  the  latest 
news.  Governor  Brent  had  come  last  night. 
That  was  sure.  He  had  ridden  over  from  St. 
Gabriel's  Manor,  where  he  was  visiting  his  sister, 
and  he  had  been  seen  this  morning  walking 
about  the  town.  A  mighty  secrecy  had  been 
observed  about  the  object  of  his  coming;  but  no 
one  doubted  it  had  to  do  with  Ingle. 


Sir  Christopher 

"  'T  will  go  hard  with  Dick,"  said  one ;  "  the 
Governor  is  a  just  man,  but  a  terror  to  evil 
doers.  I  miss  my  guess  if  Dick  and  his  brother 
Ralph  both  know  not  the  feeling  of  handcuffs 
ere  nightfall." 

"  Not  Ralph  !  "  interrupted  another.  "  What 
justice  were  there  in  punishing  the  innocent  with 
the  guilty  ?  Ralph  Ingle  is  as  frank  and  hearty- 
spoken  a  gentleman  as  there  is  in  Maryland. 
He  comes  into  my  cottage  and  plays  with  the 
baby,  and  the  boys  run  to  the  door  as  soon  as 
ever  his  voice  is  heard." 

"  Ay,  but  how  comes  it  he  is  so  friendly  with 
that  rascal  brother  of  his  ?  " 

"  Why,  blood  is  thicker  than  water  —  even 
holy  water." 

A  laugh  greeted  this  sally ;  but  the  laughers 
took  the  precaution  to  cross  themselves. 

"  You  would  none  of  you  exercise  yourselves 
much  over  the  intimacy,"  said  a  third  gossip, 
"  had  ye  seen  as  I  did  the  two  brothers  talking 
on  deck  after  the  row  with  Early.  Ralph  told 
Dick  he  was  quit  of  him,  tired  of  trying  to 
make  a  gentleman  of  him,  and  wished  they 
might  never  meet  again.  He  did  indeed  —  I 
heard  it  with  my  own  ears." 

"That's  the  most  wonderful  part  of  it,"  said 
the  first  speaker  ;  "  most  of  the  things  you  tell 
you  Ve  heard  through  the  ears  of  some  one  else." 

84 


Peggy 

Gossip  number  three  turned  red  and  opened 
her  mouth  to  deliver  a  crushing  retort,  when  she 
discovered  that  the  attention  of  her  hearers  had 
been  distracted  by  the  arrival  of  a  new-comer. 

It  was  Reuben  Early,  whose  wife  had  bound 
as  big  a  bandage  as  possible  about  his  head.  He 
came  up  to  join  the  group,  receiving  on  all  sides 
gratifying  commiserations  upon  the  wound  he 
had  been  dealt  by  Richard  Ingle's  hand ;  and 
though  he  had  some  difficulty  in  explaining  why 
he  had  not  returned  it,  nor  made  any  defence  after 
all  his  bold  talk,  he  still  continued  to  pose  as  a 
hero,  and  to  make  his  townfellows  feel  that  in 
his  humiliation  they  had  received  an  individual 
and  collective  insult. 

"When  the  villain  struck  me,"  he  explained, 
"  I  was  encumbered  with  the  sack  of  grain  I  was 
bearing,  and  ere  I  could  lay  it  down  and  reach 
my  weapon,  the  fellow  had  disappeared  down 
the  hatchway." 

"  Come,  come,  Reuben  !  "  cried  a  sceptic 
near-by,  "  we  all  know  you  are  readier  with  your 
tongue  than  with  either  sword  or  musket ;  and 
I  for  one  am  not  sorry  to  have  you  taught  a 
lesson,  were  it  not  that  the  blow  was  struck  at  a 
citizen  of  St.  Mary's,  and  therefore  at  us  all.  I 
am  for  punishing  Dick  Ingle  for  the  assault,  yet 
lightly  ;  but  for  the  treason  he  spoke  he  should 
be  hung  at  the  yard-arm  of  his  own  ship." 

85 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Not  hung  perhaps  ;  but  surely  put  in  custody 
of  Sheriff  Ellyson  here,"  suggested  another  of 
the  group,  who  stood  in  the  morning  sunlight 
outside  the  log  cabin  which  served  fora  hostelry. 

"  Aha  !  "  laughed  the  man  next  him,  "  our 
innkeeper  would  not  see  the  number  of  drinkers 
of  his  good  ale  diminished  by  one.  How  say 
you,  Master  Boniface,  would  it  not  be  well  to 
compel  the  traitor  to  drink  himself  to  death  at 
the  expense  of  the  Lord  Proprietary  ?  " 

All  but  two  of  the  men  laughed  at  this  sally. 
The  innkeeper  naturally  failed  to  see  the  fun  of 
a  jest  of  which  he  was  the  butt,  and  the  sheriff 
took  the  suggestion  into  serious  consideration. 

"  By  the  Saints,  it  were  a  good  scheme  and 
has  much  to  commend  it.  It  may  seem  a  pity 
to  waste  good  wine  on  a  bad  man,  when  the  one 
is  so  scarce  and  the  other  so  plenty ;  but  it  would 
mightily  relieve  the  authorities.  f  Put  him  in 
the  custody  of  the  sheriff!'  you  say;  and  how, 
pray,  am  I  to  hold  him  when  I  have  no  jail  save 
my  two  hands  ?  Can  I  lie  with  him  at  night 
and  eat  and  drink  by  day  with  my  arm  locked 
in  his  ?  I  would  he  were  at  the  bottom  of 
the  sea!" 

"  If  every  man  were  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea 
who  has  been  wished  there,  it  would  be  hard  to 
find  a  channel  for  the  ships,  and  we  might  walk 
to  England  dry-shod  !  " 

86 


Peggy 

It  was  Giles  Brent  who  spoke,  and  the  men, 
who  had  not  seen  him  approach  and  did  not 
know  how  much  he  had  overheard,  looked  some 
what  taken  aback,  for  the  discussion  of  public 
officers  and  their  duties  was  not  looked  upon  with 
special  favor. 

"  I  tell  you,  my  men,"  Governor  Brent  con 
tinued,  returning  their  salute  with  a  wave  of  his 
hand,  "  this  standing  about  the  door  of  ale-houses 
is  a  poor  way  of  life  for  pioneers.  It  breeds  idle 
ness,  and  idleness  breeds  discontent.  Get  you  all 
in  and  drink  the  King's  health  at  my  charge,  and 
then  off  with  you  to  work  ;  and  the  more  you  use 
your  mouths  to  eat  and  drink  withal,  and  the  less 
for  idle  chatter,  the  better  it  shall  fare  with  you 
and  your  families." 

The  men,  nothing  loath  to  obey  the  behest, 
filed  into  the  inn,  cheering  alternately  for  the 
King,  Lord  Baltimore,  Leonard  Calvert,  the  Gov 
ernor  now  in  England,  and  his  deputy,  Giles 
Brent,  the  last  cheer  being  the  mightiest  of  all 
and  only  drowned  by  the  gurgling  of  the  great 
draughts  of  October  ale  pouring  down  their 
throats. 

"  Hold,  Ellyson,"  said   Brent,  as   the  sheriff 

passed    in    last    of   all.      "  I    want    a  word   with 

» 
you. 

"Yes,  your  Excellency;  you  do  me  honor," 
said  Ellyson,  doffing  his  cap  of  maintenance. 

87 


Sir  Christopher 

"Does  Richard  Ingle  take  his  meals  on  board 
ship  or  ashore  ?  " 

"  I  'm  not  rightly  sure,  your  Excellency  ;  but 
I  do  think  he  takes  his  supper  here  at  the  inn, 
and  the  other  meals  on  his  ship." 

"  Does  he  come  alone  ?  " 

"  Sometimes  alone,  but  oftener  with  his 
brother." 

"  At  what  hour  does  he  sup  ?  " 

"  Oh,  any  time  after  the  day's  work  is  done, 
and  then  sits  carousing  till  all  hours.  I  have 
seen  him  drunk  enough  to  light  his  pipe  at  a 
pump  ere  midnight." 

"  That  is  well.  A  man  in  his  cups  may  be 
apprehended,  even  by  a  sheriff.  Here,  read  this. 
'T  is  a  proclamation  bidding  him  yield  himself 
to  your  custody  before  February  first.  That  will 
put  him  off  the  scent,  for  he  will  plan  to  finish 
loading  and  slip  off  at  the  end  of  the  month. 
But  to  let  him  do  this  were  to  encourage  all  evil 
doers  and  enemies  of  the  Commonwealth  ;  there 
fore  it  behooves  us  to  get  him  under  arrest  in 
short  order.  When  he  comes  to-night,  do  you 
invite  him  to  sit  down  and  sup  with  you.  Give 
him  all  he  will  drink,  and  scrimp  not  yourself 
either.  Remember  you  both  drink  at  my  charge. 
Then,  when  the  rest  of  the  drinkers  are  gone,  do 
you  serve  your  warrant  on  him,  and  hold  him 
at  your  peril  till  I  call  for  him.  Do  yonder 

88 


Peggy 

fellows  know  anything  of  the  prospect  of  the 
arrest  ?  " 

"  They  said  nothing." 

"  Then  they  know  nothing.  I  would  I  could 
be  as  sure  that  when  they  know  nothing  they  say 
nothing.  Be  you  silent  as  the  grave.  You  are  a 
close-tongued  fellow  enough  save  when  the  wine- 
cup  loosens  your  tongue  and  lets  out  your  brains, 
and  leaves  you  rolled  up  in  a  corner  like  a  filthy 
hogshead.  But  never  mind  —  never  mind;  you 
are  better  than  many  around  you.  I  give  you 
good-morning." 

So  the  two  parted,  Ellyson  entering  the  tavern 
and  Brent  turning  into  the  path  that  led  to  the 
house  of  Councillor  Neale. 

As  he  passed  on  his  way,  he  thought  to  him 
self,  "  Pray  Heaven  he  heeds  not  that  caution  ! 
If  he  be  not  well  drunken  this  night  our  well-laid 
plan  falls  to  the  ground,  and  then  there  's  a  pretty 
muddle." 


89 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE  KING'S  ARMS 

IT  was  already  dark  on  the  night  after  Giles 
Brent's  talk  with  young  Huntoon,  when 
Captain  Richard  Ingle  entered  the  doorway 
of  The  King's  Arms.  On  the  outside  there  was 
little  to  mark  the  difference  between  the  hostelry 
and  the  other  log-cabins,  except  that  at  right 
angles  both  to  house  and  road  hung  a  sign-board 
decorated  with  the  name  of  the  inn,  and  bearing 
below  in  gaudy  colors  the  standard  of  the  Com 
monwealth. 

Within,  the  long  low-raftered  room,  despite  its 
bareness,  had  that  air  of  good  cheer  which  the 
devil  knows  how  to  throw  around  places  where 
men  meet  to  drink  themselves  into  his  likeness. 

With  his  swashbuckler  air  and  swinging  bravado 
of  carriage,  Ingle  was  a  not  unattractive  figure. 
His  height  was  above  the  average,  and  he  wore 
his  jerkin  and  slashed  doublet  jauntily.  His  face 
might  have  had  claims  to  beauty,  but  for  its  sinis 
ter  expression,  and  to  many  of  those  who  looked 
at  him  this  expression,  combined  with  his  reckless 

90 


The  King's  Arms 

bearing,  constituted  a  certain  fascination.  The 
hall  mark  of  the  devil  adds  value. 

With  the  smell  of  the  sea  which  hung  about 
Dick  Ingle  was  associated  an  air  of  mystery,  as  of 
one  who  could  tell  much  if  he  would,  and  the 
dignity  of  a  captain  who  from  his  quarter-deck 
might  defy  king,  lords,  and  commons;  though 
justice  might  some  day  reach  out  its  long  arm  for 
him  ashore,  and  sweep  along  with  him  any  rash 
landsman  who  ventured  on  too  close  an  intimacy. 

Just  now,  after  his  recent  treasonable  speeches 
aboard  'The  Reformation,  any  display  of  acquaint 
ance  was  held  to  be  specially  injudicious,  and 
consequently,  though  all  the  men  around  the 
inn-board  looked  up  at  Captain  Ingle's  entrance, 
none  moved  to  make  room  for  him  on  the 
bench. 

The  room  was  so  thick  with  tobacco  smoke 
that  the  candles  set  in  pine  knots  for  sockets  at 
various  intervals  along  the  board  (which  was  lit 
erally  a  board,  supported  on  horses  of  wood)  cast 
only  a  glimmering  dimness  around  them.  Ingle 
raised  his  hand  to  his  eyes  and  stood  a  moment, 
peering  from  under  it  at  the  table  and  the  group 
seated  around  it.  As  he  took  in  the  meaning  of 
the  sudden  silence  and  the  averted  glances,  a  smile 
of  contempt  settled  about  his  mouth. 

"Ah,  friends/'  he  cried  jovially,  "I  am  glad  to 
find  so  many  good  fellows  met  together.  Coun- 

91 


Sir  Christopher 

cillor  Neale,  I  will  ask  a  word  with  you  later 
about  the  bill  of  goods  consigned  to  you." 

The  councillor  cast  down  his  eyes  as  sheepishly 
as  though  all  must  know  the  goods  were  of 
doubtful  repute. 

"Cornwaleys,  tfhe  Reformation  sails  in  a  day  or 
two,  and  I  advise  you  to  prepare  your  message 
of  loyalty  to  the  Lord  General  Cromwell  without 
delay."  ' 

Cornwaleys  would  have  given  a  hundred 
pounds  rather  than  that  any  should  know  he 
had  planned  to  make  his  future  safe  by  riding 
two  horses,  and  making  his  submission  to  Parlia 
ment  while  he  threw  up  his  cap  for  the  King. 

The  other  men  about  the  board  cowered.  The 
whizzing  of  the  lash  was  in  the  air,  and  every 
back  quivered  with  the  expectation  that  it  might 
feel  the  next  blow. 

But  having  vented  his  spleen  in  these  unpleas- 
antries,  the  great  man  grew  affable,  and  turning 
to  the  wall  where  a  large  placard  was  posted,  he 
exclaimed,  — 

"  Ha,  Sheriff,  here  is  a  letter  addressed  to  thee 
and  me  by  our  worshipful  Governor  pro  tern. 
Let  us  read  it  out  for  the  benefit  of  the  company, 
who  have  not  book-learning  enough  to  decipher 
it  for  themselves.  'T  is  writ  in  a  shaking  hand, 
too,  especially  the  word  'treason/  and  in  truth 
it  is  as  well  it  should  be  a  trifle  vague,  for  who 

92 


The  King's  Arms 

shall  write  'treason*  firmly  nowadays,  when  the  war 
has  left  it  so  dubious  who  is  our  lawful  master 
that  none  can  say  but  a  year  hence  the  very  name 
of  this  tavern  shall  be  changed  from  'The  Kings 
Arms  to  General  Cromwell's  Legs  ?  " 

A  titter  ran  round  the  room. 

"Hush,  gentlemen!  He  who  laughs  makes 
himself  sharer  in  the  jest,  and  a  jest  at  royalty  is 
treason  —  at  least,  so  says  our  king-loving  Gov 
ernor.  Listen!" 

And  in  a  sing-song  voice  Ingle  began  to  read 
aloud  from  the  placard,  — 

' '  20th  January. 
"  PROCLAMATION. 

"I  do  hereby  require,  in  his  Majesty's  name,  Richard  Ingle, 
mariner,  to  yield  his  body  to  Robert  Ellyson,  sheriff  of  this 
county,  before  the  first  day  of  February  next,  to  answer  to  such 
crimes  of  treason  as  on  his  Majesty's  behalf  shall  be  objected 
against  him,  upon  his  utmost  peril  of  the  law  in  that  behalf ; 
and  I  do  further  require  all  persons  that  can  say  or  disclose 
any  matter  of  treason  against  the  said  Richard  Ingle  to  in 
form  his  Lordship's  attorney  of  it  at  some  time  before  the  said 
court,  to  the  end  it  may  be  then  and  there  prosecuted. 

«'  G.  BRENT. 

"  You  see,  gentlemen,  the  proclamation  grants 
me  till  the  first  of  February  to  deliver  myself  up ; 
therefore  my  good  friend  Ellyson  yonder  must 
needs  keep  his  hands  off  these  ten  days.  Land 
lord,  bring  out  your  ale,  and  all  good  fellows  shall 
drink  with  me  a  health  to  —  let  me  see ;  shall  it 

93 


Sir  Christopher 

be  Charles,  or  Oliver  ?  And  everlasting  damna 
tion  to  the  enemies  of — shall  we  say  the  King, 
or  the  Parliament? " 

The  men  who  sat  around  were  ready  enough  for 
a  drink,  but  they  had  no  mind  for  such  dangerous 
toasts,  and  great  was  the  relief  when  one  shrewd 
fellow  cried  out,  "Oh,  quit  your  politics,  Dick,  and 
let  us  drink  to  the  next  voyage  of  The  Reformation. 
And  now  do  you  give  us  a  song,  for  there  is  none 
can  sing  like  you  when  you  can  abstain  from 
swearing  long  enough.  But  first,  here  's  to  our 
town,  and  I  give  you  our  rallying  cry,  —  cHey 
for  Saint  Mary's,  and  wives  for  us  all ! '  " 

Ingle  joined  with  good-humor  in  the  ringing 
cheer  that  followed.  "  Here  goes,  then,"  he  said, 
as  the  landlord  brought  in  the  tankards.  "  You 
may  guzzle  while  I  sing,  and  for  the  benefit  of 
you  family  men  who  are  so  fond  of  shouting 
'  Wives  for  us  all ! '  I  '11  make  it  a  song  of  mar 
ried  life.  'T  is  sweetly  entitled  The  Dumb  Maid, 
and  runs  thus,  — 


31=1 


The  King's  Arms 

"  '  There  was  a  country  blade 
Who  did  wed  a  pretty  maid, 
And  he  kindly  conducted  her 

Home,  home,  home. 
There  in  her  beauty  bright 
Lay  his  whole  delight ; 
But  alack  and  alas,  she  was 

Dumb,  dumb,  dumb.' 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  you  might  think  this  lucky 
husband  would  have  been  content  with  his  good 
fortune,  and  let  well  enough  alone  ;  but  no,  he 
was  for  having  a  perfect  wife  —  which  was  as  if 
he  would  have  had  a  white  blackbird  or  a  moral 
courtier  or  a  wise  king ;  so  — 

"  '  To  the  doctor  he  did  her  bring 
For  to  cut  her  chattering  string, 
And  he  let  her  tongue  on 

The  run,  run,  run. 
In  the  morning  she  did  rise, 
And  she  filled  his  house  with  cries, 
And  she  rattled  in  his  ears  like  a 

Drum,  drum,  drum.' 

"  Now  the  stupid  oaf  began  to    discover   his 
blunder,  —  but  perhaps  you've  had  enough.'* 
Cries  of"  Go  on  !  Go  on!  " 
"  Well,  then,  listen  to  his  fate  and  take  warn 
ing, — 

"  '  To  the  doctor  he  did  go 

With  his  heart  well  filled  with  woe, 
Crying,  "  Doctor  I  am  quite 
Undone,  done,  done. 
95 


Sir  Christopher 

Now  she  's  turned  a  scolding  wife 
And  I  '  m  weary  of  my  life, 
For  I  cannot  make  her  hold 

Her  tongue,  tongue,  tongue.'* 

"  '  The  doctor  thus  did  say  — 

"  When  she  went  from  me  away 
She  was  perfectly  cured  of  being 

Dumb,  dumb,  dumb. 
But  it's  beyond  the  art  of  man, 
Let  him  do  the  best  he  can, 
For  to  make  a  scolding  woman  hold 

Her  tongue,  tongue,  tongue." 

Roars  of  applause  greeted  the  ending  of  the 
performance.  In  the  midst  of  it  Ingle  crossed 
the  room  to  the  end  of  the  table  where  Sheriff 
Ellyson  was  seated. 

"  Come,  Sheriff,  since  you  and  I  are  met,  let 
us  sit  down  at  the  further  end  of  the  board  where 
our  conversation  may  not  disturb  these  gentle 


men." 


With  this  he  drew  up  a  stool  for  himself,  and 
as  the  mugs  of  ale  were  quaffed  and  the  pipes 
emptied,  one  after  another  of  the  bibbers  and 
smokers  reached  for  his  cap,  and  moved  out  into 
the  darkness  with  a  muttered  good-night,  till  at 
last  none  were  left  but  Neale  and  Cornwaleys,  two 
men  in  high  standing  in  the  colony  and  close 
friends  of  Governor  Brent. 

Meanwhile  Captain  Ingle  made  vast  inroads 
96 


The  King's  Arms 

upon  the  mighty  haunch  of  venison  which  the 
landlord  set  before  him  with  obsequious  attention, 
and  a  pasty  with  five  small  birds  stewed  together 
vanished  into  his  capacious  stomach  without  ap 
pearing  to  diminish  his  appetite.  "  Let  us  have 
prawns,"  he  called  to  the  landlord,  "  prawns  and 
cheese  to  finish  with,  and  brown  ale  from  one  of 
the  hogsheads  I  brought  in  The  Reformation. 
I  always  call  for  that,"  he  added  with  a  wink  to 
Cornwaleys,  "when  I  want  something  extra  good. 
When  you  drink  what  you  bring,  you  know  what 
you  get." 

"  Ay,"  responded  Ellyson  jovially,  "  trundle  it 
up,  landlord,  cask  and  all,  and  we  will  help  our 
selves.  You  may  go  to  bed  and  welcome,  for  we 
mean  to  make  a  night  on't.  Who  gets  the  ale- 
cask  needs  no  host." 

"  But  who  will  lock  the  door  ?  " 

"  Why,  we,  to  be  sure  !  " 

"  Faith  !  "  cried  the  landlord  with  a  shout  of 
laughter,  "  I  Ve  seen  ye  both  after  a  night's 
drinking  bout,  and  neither  one  of  you  could  keep 
your  legs  or  lift  hand  to  mouth,  let  alone  turning 
key  or  drawing  bolt." 

"  Then  we  '11  stay  till  you  are  up  in  the  morn 
ing,"  roared  Ingle,  "and  woe  to  the  thief  who 
dares  intrude  upon  the  majesty  of  the  law  as  rep 
resented  by  Sheriff  Ellyson,  or  the  rights  of  free 
men  supported  by  the  sword  of  Richard  Ingle." 
7  97 


Sir  Christopher 

With  this  the  freebooter  drew  his  weapon  and 
after  waving  it  round  his  head  in  token  of  what 
marauders  might  expect,  laid  it  on  the  bench 
beside  him. 

The  innkeeper,  overawed  by  the  sight  of  such 
prospective  prowess,  began  to  think  what  a  fine 
thing  it  would  be  to  substitute  this  gallant  blade 
for  the  pale  little  sheriff. 

"  I  '11  tarry  at  least  till  these  other  gentlemen 
are  gone  home/'  he  said,  and  betook  himself  to 
the  other  end  of  the  table.  Neale  and  Cornwaleys 
loitered  a  few  minutes,  then  rose  with  a  yawn  and 
a  stretching  of  the  arms  and  legs. 

"  Give  you  good  evening,  gentlemen  !  "  Neale 
said  to  those  at  the  end. 

"  Good-night,  Sir  Landlord,  and  thanks  for 
your  good  fire  and  better  ale  !  "  called  Cornwaleys, 
following  him  lazily  out  at  the  door. 

But  outside  their  idle  lounging  ceased.  They 
drew  close  together  and  whispered  anxiously. 
The  watch  passed.  They  only  drew  closer 
into  the  shadow  and  let  him  go  by.  Then  they 
pressed  their  faces  to  the  hole  in  the  shutters, 
and  stood  gazing  at  the  pair  inside,  who  sat  quaff 
ing  tankard  after  tankard  by  the  wavering  light 
of  the  candles  and  the  red  glow  of  the  embers 
on  the  hearth. 

A  few  moments  later  they  were  joined  by  a 
third  man.  A  Monmouth  cap  was  pulled  low 

98 


The  King's  Arms 

over  his  eyes,  and  the  collar  of  his  cloak  raised  to 
meet  it  so  that  none  could  see  his  features.  Neale 
and  Cornwaleys  showed  no  surprise  at  his  ap 
proach,  but  seemed  to  be  awaiting  him. 

"  How  goes  it  ?  "  asked  the  new-comer  in  a 
whisper. 

"  To  a  charm  so  far,"  answered  Neale. 

"  I  confess  I  like  not  the  part  we  are  playing." 

"  Nor  I  either,  but  it  must  be  played.  The 
villagers  are  much  roused  against  Ingle,  yet 
have  a  group  of  them  been  drinking  at  his 
cost  at  the  tavern  to-night,  and  whatever  is 
done  by  the  authorities  will  give  offence  in  some 
quarter." 

"  Ay,  and  his  punishment  most  of  all.  There 
be  many  that  like  him  for  his  dare-devil  ways, 
and  more  that  tolerate  him  for  the  sake  of  his 
brother." 

"  Ralph  is  a  fine  fellow,"  said  Cornwaleys, 
"and  Dick  himself  is  open-handed." 

"Ay,  and  open-mouthed,"  added  Neale. 
"Some  daring  souls  may  whisper  touching  mat 
ters  of  state ;  but  he  must  needs  shout  out  his 
opinions  louder  than  any  Roundhead  in  Parlia 


ment." 


"  The  fool !  "  muttered  Brent  (for  it  was  he 
who  had  just  come  up). 

"  Fool  he  is,"  answered  Neale ;  "  who  ever 
knew  Dick  Ingle  other  than  a  fool?  But  who 

99 


Sir  Christopher 

shall  say  it  was  not  truth  he  spoke  when  he  said 
the  King  was  no  king." 

"  Well,  well,"  Brent  said  impatiently,  "  waste 
no  words  on  idle  speculations  ;  but  let  us  keep 
our  wits  to  try  how  we  may  steer  a  safe  course 
between  the  devil  and  the  deep  sea.  If  we 
apprehend  this  man  't  is  an  affront  to  the  Par 
liament  to  whom  he  swears  allegiance.  If  we 
apprehend  him  not,  't  is  as  good  as  to  make  our 
selves  partakers  in  his  lese-majeste.  So  't  is 
clear  the  only  course  is  both  to  apprehend  him 
and  to  let  him  go.  All  the  people  will  hear  of 
the  proclamation  and  of  my  order  of  arrest. 
This  will  satisfy  their  sense  of  justice,  and  so  are 
we  quit  of  our  official  duties.  And  afterward  if 
the  sheriff,  through  some  carelessness  and  neglect, 
let  Richard  Ingle  go  free  and  he  reach  his  own 
quarter-deck  and  set  sail  for  England  before  ever 
he  be  caught  —  why  —  " 

cc  Sh  !  "  whispered  Cornwaleys,  "  speak  softer, 
or  all  will  fail.  Neale,  you  have  your  eye  to  the 
chink  in  the  shutter  ?  " 

"  Ay,  and  can  see  as  if  I  were  in  the  room. 
It  is  hard  to  say  which  is  drinking  the  harder." 

"  No  man  can  keep  his  legs  with  that  quantity 
of  ale  in  his  belly,"  answered  Cornwaleys ;  "  we 
shall  find  them  in  the  morning  on  the  tavern 
floor." 

"  Hm  !  "  reflected  Neale,  "  there  is  some  dan- 


100 


The  King's  Arms 

ger  o'  that  and  't  will  not  suit  our  plans  neither. 
We  'd  best  stir  Ellyson  a  bit." 

With  this  he  shuffled  his  feet  and  moved  the 
shutter  back  and  forth.  The  sound  reached  the 
ear  of  Ellyson.  He  paused  with  his  mug  half 
way  to  his  lips,  and  then,  setting  his  flagon  down 
hard  on  the  board,  he  rose,  and  putting  his  hand 
into  the  breast  of  his  jerkin  drew  forth  something 
white. 

"The  fun  begins,"  whispered  Neale,  flattening 
his  nose  against  the  shutter  in  the  effort  to  lose 
no  glimpse  of  what  was  going  forward. 

"We  must  be  ready  to  rush  in  if  Ingle  uses 
him  too  hard,"  announced  Cornwaleys. 

The  two  men  watched  with  all  their  eyes,  and 
this  is  what  they  saw  :  — 

The  giant,  having  the  paper  thrust  in  his  face, 
grew  red  with  rage  and  strove  to  rise  and  reach 
for  his  sword,  but  only  succeeded  in  falling  across 
the  table,  his  hair  trailing  into  the  mug  of  ale. 
Then  the  nimble  little  sheriff,  who  was  perhaps 
less  drunk  than  he  had  feigned,  whipped  around 
the  table  and  drawing  a  length  of  cord  from  his 
capacious  jerkin  succeeded  in  binding  the  wrists 
of  his  adversary  before  he  could  rise.  Ingle 
roared  out  curses. 

The  landlord  shouted  from  his  bed  to  know 
what  was  the  matter. 

"  Oh,  't  is  naught.     Give  yourself  no  trouble  in 


Sir  Christopher 

the  matter.  Captain  Ingle  has  had  overmuch  drink 
even  for  him,  and  I  am  taking  him  home." 

"  There  seems  to  be  a  break  in  our  fine  plan," 
murmured  Neale.  "  What  if  Ellyson  prove  the 
better  man  of  the  two  ?  " 

"  Rubbish  !     How  can  he  ?  " 

But  a  weak  arm  backed  by  a  clear  head  can 
do  more  than  mighty  muscles  befuddled  with 
beer.  Ellyson  rapidly  made  fast  his  cord,  and 
drawing  out  a  stouter  one  tied  that  too,  and 
tugging  might  and  main  pulled  the  captain  off 
his  stool  headlong  to  the  ground,  where  he  lay 
for  an  instant  grovelling,  and  then,  gathering  him 
self  up,  staggered  a  few  paces  to  the  door. 

"  Thank  ye  for  that,  my  fine  fellow !  "  said 
Ellyson.  "  I  could  scarce  have  got  ye  so  far 
without  your  own  help." 

The  next  move  of  the  little  sheriff  was  a  clever 
one.  Hard  by  the  door  stood  a  hand-car  used 
for  the  moving  of  casks  to  the  slant  of  the  cellar- 
way.  Its  wheels  were  made  of  sections  of  pine 
logs  revolving  on  rudely  fashioned  axles.  This 
car  Ellyson  rolled  directly  in  front  of  the  door 
way,  and  then  getting  behind  Ingle  gave  him  a 
push  which  sent  him  forward  face  first  upon  the 
car. 

"  What  say  ye  now,  Neale  ?  "  whispered  Corn- 
waleys,  pressing  closer  than  ever  into  the  shadow. 

"  Say  ?     I  say  the  devil  is  let  loose  and  help- 

102 


The  King's  Arms 

ing  the  little  sheriff.     Let  us  follow.     His  luck 
may  have  a  turn." 

Down  the  street  went  the  four  men,  Ellyson 
grunting  and  sweating  under  his  burden,  but  full 
of  the  joy  of  conquest  over  an  unequal  foe,  and 
of  the  complacency  born  of  a  sense  of  duty  ful 
filled,  combined  with  the  hope  of  preferment. 
Already  he  saw  himself  promoted  to  fat  office, 
perhaps  to  the  Council  itself.  But  at  this  junc 
ture  a  strange  thing  happened. 

The  night  air  had  begun  to  cool  Ingle's  hot  head 
and  clear  the  beer-befuddled  brain.  With  a  mighty 
effort  he  tore  his  arms  loose  from  the  encircling 
cords,  and  reaching  for  the  poniard  in  his  breast 
sprang  from  the  car. 

Luckily  for  Ellyson,  Ingle's  legs  were  still  un 
steady.  As  it  was,  the  doughty  little  man  was 
consumed  with  terror  at  the  sight  of  the  giant 
lunging  about  with  his  weapon  gleaming  in  his 
hand,  as  he  waved  it  wildly  and  aimlessly  about  his 
head.  In  his  terror  Ellyson  called  aloud  for  help  ; 
but  excitement  made  his  voice  so  weak  it  could 
scarcely  be  heard  a  hundred  feet  away. 

"  The  end  has  come,"  said  Neale  and  Corn- 
waleys  in  a  breath. 

Then  to  their  dismay,  they  saw  the  door  of  a 
cottage  open  and  a  young  man  dash  out  half-clad, 
but  with  a  loaded  pistol  in  his  hand. 

"  Who  cried  for  help  ?  " 
103 


Sir  Christopher 

"  I,  the  sheriff!  I  hold  an  order  from  Gov 
ernor  Brent  to  arrest  this  man,  and  I  call  upon 
you  as  a  good  citizen  of  Maryland  to  come  to 
my  aid." 

Ingle  by  this  time  had  got  his  back  against 
a  tree,  and  stood  there  waving  his  dagger  and 
calling  to  his  foes  to  come  on  if  they  dared. 

"  I  am  no  citizen  of  Maryland,"  said  Romney 
Huntoon  ;  "  I  come  from  Virginia,  but  I  Ve  no 
objection  to  bearing  a  hand  in  the  arrest  of  this 
man,  for  I  heard  his  traitorous  ranting,  and  I 
vowed  then  to  do  him  a  bad  turn  if  ever  it 
came  in  my  way." 

"Your  chance  is  come,"  muttered  the  sheriff. 
cc  Do  you  stand  here  and  cover  him  with  your 
pistol,  and  I  will  go  round  behind  the  tree  and 
try  if  I  may  not  bind  him  where  he  stands. 
Ingle,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  other,  "  if  you 
move  you  are  a  dead  man." 

"  Hold!  in  the  Kings  name !  " 

The  three  men  started  as  if  a  cannon  had  ex 
ploded  in  their  midst.  The  surprise  even  sobered 
Ingle.  He  looked  up  in  speechless  amazement  as 
Councillor  Neale  and  Captain  Cornwaleys  strode 
up,  and  with  all  the  double  weight  of  civil  and 
military  authority  called  out  to  Ingle  to  surrender. 

Seeing  his  position  desperate  he  sullenly  obeyed. 

"  March  in  front,"  commanded  Cornwaleys. 
Cf  Ellyson,  do  you  walk  beside  him.  Master 

104 


The  King's  Arms 

Huntoon,  if  you  will  favor  us  with  your  com 
pany  and  your  weapons,  you  will  oblige  us  by 
your  escort  down  the  road  as  far  as  the  wharf 
where  The  Reformation  lies." 

"  The  Reformation  ?  "  exclaimed  Huntoon. 

11  I  said  so,  I  think,"  answered  Cornwaleys. 

«  But — but  —  you  do  not  understand,"  stam 
mered  Ellyson  ;  "  I  am  acting  by  Governor  Brent's 
command.  I  am  by  no  means  to  lose  sight  of 
the  prisoner  until  further  commands  from  him." 

"  You  have  fulfilled  your  commission,"  said 
Neale,  "  and  stand  discharged  of  all  responsibil 
ity.  Master  Huntoon,  I  charge  you  take  notice 
that  Sheriff  Ellyson  is  hereby  relieved  of  all 
blame  in  this  matter,  whatever  the  outcome,  and 
that  I  do  hereby  take  upon  myself  all  the  bur 
den  of  Governor  Brent's  displeasure  if  such  there 

i_    " 
be. 

"  The  Councillor  has  spoken,"  said  Cornwaleys, 
cc  and  with  my  approbation.  Forward,  march  !  " 

The  walk  down  the  hill  to  the  wharf  was  cov 
ered  in  perfect  silence.  Ingle  walked  between 
Ellyson  and  Cornwaleys,  able  to  keep  his  feet 
with  occasional  support  from  his  escort.  As  the 
men  halted  on  the  wharf,  Neale  stepped  forward. 

"  Richard  Ingle,"  said  he,  "  are  you  drunk  or 
sober  ? " 

"  Sober  enough,  as  you  shall  some  day  learn 
that  have  put  this  affront  upon  me." 

I05 


Sir  Christopher 

"Then  listen  and  give  heed  to  the  words  I 
speak.  Because  of  your  treasonable  talk,  your 
ill  conduct,  and  your  disturbance  of  the  peace, 
you  do  richly  deserve  the  most  that  the  laws  of 
Maryland  could  pronounce  as  your  punishment/* 

"  Ay,  that  he  does  !  "   murmured  Huntoon. 

"  Then  why  not  give  it  to  him  ? "  grumbled 
Ellyson,  loath  to  see  the  prize  he  had  captured  at 
such  expense  of  difficulty  and  danger  slip  through 
his  fingers  in  the  moment  of  triumph. 

"  Be  silent,  Sheriff!  It  is  not  in  your  province 
to  criticise  your  superiors.  Ingle,  we  shall  now 
put  you  aboard  ship  and  give  you  six  hours  to 
make  good  your  departure.  But  if  at  dawn  so 
much  as  a  topmast  of  'The  Reformation  be  seen 
from  St.  Mary's,  we  will  have  her  overhauled 
and  her  captain  strung  up  at  the  yard-arm." 

Ingle's  senses  were  returning  fast,  and  he  re 
sponded  to  the  Councillor's  words  with  a  smile, 
the  cool  impudence  of  which  irritated  Neale  be 
yond  endurance.  He  saw  that  the  sailors  were 
gathering  on  the  deck,  and  that  time  was  short. 

"  Seize  him  !  "  he  cried  suddenly  to  Huntoon 
and  Cornwaleys ;  "  seize  the  cur  and  toss  him  on 
board  his  vessel  as  he  deserves." 

Huntoon  and  Cornwaleys,  delighted  at  the 
chance  to  wreak  even  a  portion  of  their  vengeance, 
needed  no  second  bidding.  Cornwaleys  seized 
his  head  and  Huntoon  his  feet,  and  with  a  mighty 

1 06 


The  King's  Arms 

swing  they  flung  him  clear  of  the  wharf  and 
landed  him  in  the  middle  of  the  deck  amid  a 
circle  of  sailors  half  angry,  half  grinning. 

"  Remember  !  "   cried  Neale,  warningly. 

"  A  good  riddance  !  '"  exclaimed  Cornwaleys 
as  they  walked  away. 

"  Yes,  if  he  stays  rid,"  answered  Neale,  doubt 
fully.  "  Ellyson,  you  are  to  be  silent  on  this 
night's  doings. " 

"  I  know  my  duty,"  said  Ellyson,  sullenly, 
"even  when  I  am  not  permitted  to  do  it.  But 
I  know  not  how  I  am  to  answer  to  Governor 
Brent  for  this  night's  work." 

Neale  leaned  over  and  whispered  some  words  in 
his  ear  which  seemed  to  amaze  him,  the  more  so 
as  something  which  showed  under  the  struggling 
moonbeams  round  and  yellow  and  shining  was 
slipped  into  his  hand  by  Cornwaleys  on  the  other 
side. 

"  Master  Huntoon,  we  trust  to  your  honor." 

"  You  may,"  Huntoon  responded  with  some 
haughtiness ;  and  he  turned  upon  his  heel  and 
strode  back  to  his  lodgings,  thanking  Heaven 
that  he  was  a  Virginian. 


107 


CHAPTER   VII 

IN    GOOD    GREEN    WOOD 

OW  what  say  you,  Mistress  Peggy  ?  " 
"  Say  ?  What  could  I  say  to  such 
an  offer  save  that,  if  my  aunt  allows, 
'twill  give  me  more  pleasure  than  aught  else  that 
could  befall.  I  have  longed  for  months  to  see 
your  sister  Mary  and  St.  Gabriel's,  and  now  to 
see  them,  and  besides  to  have  sight  of  my  brother 
and  of  Mistress  Calvert  —  " 

"  To  say  nothing  of  a  ride  through  the  forest 
under  escort  of  the  Governor  of  the  province  !  " 

"  Why,  to  tell  the  truth,  it  is  that  only  which 
gives  me  pause,  for  I  know  well  that  he  has  grave 
matters  of  state  on  his  mind,  and  would  fain  per 
haps  be  alone  to  think  them  over,  whereas  I  am 
such  a  chattering  magpie,  as  my  brother  has  often 
told  me,  that  no  man  can  have  a  thought  in  his 
head  when  I  am  about." 

"  And  how  do  you  know,  little  Peggy,  that  that 
is  not  just  the  reason  why  I  have  asked  for  your 
company  ?  It  is  quite  true  that  I  am  vexed  and 
worried  and  harried  half  out  of  my  senses  over 

1 08 


In  Good  Green  Wood 

recent  affairs  here  in  St.  Mary's,  —  affairs  which 
call  for  anxious  meditation  and  drastic  action ; 
but  for  this  one  day  I  would  fain  forget  that  I 
am  a  grizzled  man  weighed  down  with  matters 
heavy  enough  to  sink  him,  and  make  believe 
that  I  am  a  light-hearted  lad  again  wandering 
about  the  forest  with  a  maiden  as  care-free  as  he. 
We  will  have  a  merry  ride  of  it,  and  we  will  stop 
by  the  wayside  and  build  a  fire  in  the  snow  to 
cook  our  noonday  meal." 

"But — but  —  I    know     not    how    to    cook/' 
Peggy  confessed  with  much  embarrassment. 

"  Not  know  how  to  cook  !  For  shame  !  and 
you  a  pioneer  —  I  must  have  speech  of  your 
aunt,  and  counsel  her  to  take  order  with  you  at 
once  till  the  deficiency  be  mended.  But  for  this 
once  it  will  not  matter,  for  I  am  taking  back  with 
me  to  Kent  Fort  a  lame  servant,  Anne  by  name, 
owned  by  Sir  Edmund  Plowden  and  lent  by  him 
to  my  sister  Margaret.  She  will  be  of  our  party, 
and  likewise  Councillor  Neale  and  Captain  Corn- 
waleys.  So  with  them  to  guard  us  against  foes 
without,  and  her  to  fortify  us  against  the  worse 
enemy  of  hunger  within,  you  and  I  may  have 
good  hopes  of  coming  safely  to  St.  Gabriel's." 
3  "  O  Aunt,  Aunt !  "  Peggy  called  out,  "  his 
Excellency  has  asked  me  to  ride  with  him  to  St. 
Gabriel's.  Only  think  of  it  —  to  St.  Gabriel's, 

and  this  very  day  !  " 

109 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Foolish  child  !  "  said  her  aunt,  with  reproof 
in  her  voice.  "  You  can  think  of  nothing  but 
the  pleasure  of  the  moment.  How  could  you 
manage  your  home-coming  ?  And  how  do  you 
know  that  Mistress  Brent  desires  your  com 
pany  ?  " 

"  If  you  will  permit  me  to  take  upon  myself 
the  burden  of  answering  your  questions,  Madam, 
I  think  I  can  set  your  mind  at  rest  on  both 
points.  My  sister  Margaret  has  in  mind  a  jour 
ney  to  St.  Mary's  from  Kent  Fort,  and  will  stop 
on  her  way  to  pick  up  your  niece  and  bring  her 
home  to  you  in  safety.  As  for  the  other  question, 
it  could  only  be  asked  by  one  who  knew  little  of 
Mary  Brent.  Why,  I  have  seen  her  eyes  light  up 
with  joy  when  a  total  stranger  stopped  at  the 
door  for  a  meal  or  a  night's  lodging,  and  at  a 
friend's  coming  she  is  clean  daft  with  pleasure. 
Between  you  and  me  too  she  has  a  particular  and 
foolish  fondness  for  this  saucy  slip  of  a  niece  of 
yours,  and  will  count  it  a  red-letter  day  when  she 
sees  the  baggage  jump  off  her  donkey  at  the  gate, 
and  come  running  in  at  the  door.  Oh,  there  will 
be  great  rejoicing  at  the  manor  this  night,  —  I  can 
promise  you  that." 

The  Governor  of  Maryland  was  not  lightly  to 
be  denied.  So  it  was  settled  that  Peggy  was  to 
go,  and  the  saddle-bags  were  filled  on  one  side 
with  her  clothing,  since,  even  in  the  wilderness,  a 

no 


In  Good  Green  Wood 

maid  must  needs  carry  her  bit  of  finery,  and  in 
the  other  side  her  aunt's  hospitable  care  had 
stored  away  an  ample  supply  of  bread  and  meat 
and  wine,  with  other  eatables  and  drinkables  to 
be  heated  in  the  ashes  of  the  noonday  fire. 

When  the  two  donkeys  stood  at  the  gate  and 
Mistress  Peggy  and  the  lame  serving-woman 
were  mounted  there  was  no  happier  or  prouder 
maid  in  the  province  than  Margaret  Neville. 
Giles  Brent  joined  the  procession  at  the  edge  of 
the  village.  He  was  seated  on  Governor  Cal- 
vert's  horse,  one  of  the  few  in  the  colony,  and 
his  large  frame  with  its  red-lined  cloak  showed 
well  on  the  big  black  Flemish  steed. 

Behind  him  walked  three  men.  Yes,  Peggy 
distinctly  counted  three,  though  Governor  Brent 
had  named  only  two.  There  was  Councillor 
Neale,  with  his  heavy  staff"  and  big  foreign  boots, 
and  Captain  Cornwaleys,  brave  in  his  military 
uniform  with  gilt  trimmings;  but  who  was  the 
third  ?  Not  —  surely  not  —  Oh,  no,  nothing 
could  be  more  unlikely  !  —  and  yet —  Yes,  there 
was  no  doubt  of  it ;  however  the  thing  had  come 
about,  the  man  who  walked  between  them  was 
Romney  Huntoon.  If  there  had  been  any  doubt 
in  her  mind  at  the  first  glance,  it  was  set  at  rest  as 
they  drew  nearer,  for  the  young  man  stepped 
forward  close  to  the  little  brown  donkey,  and 
sweeping  off  his  hat  laid  bare  his  dark  curls,  and 


in 


Sir  Christopher 

then  looked  up  at  Peggy  as  though  he  had  been 
the  devoutest  of  Catholics,  and  she  his  patron 
saint. 

Now,  I  will  not  deny  that  Peggy  Neville  was 
good  to  look  at ;  but  never  did  any  one  bear  less 
resemblance  to  a  saint  than  she  as  she  sat  perched 
upon  her  mottled  brown  and  gray  donkey,  her 
saucy,  smiling  face  peeping  out  from  its  scarlet 
hood,  her  cheeks  as  red  as  the  wool  covering 
around  them,  and  her  brown  eyes  sparkling  with 
fun  and  health  and  girlish  glee.  Her  first  care 
was  to  give  this  youth  fully  to  understand  that  it 
was  with  no  thought  of  him  she  had  joined  this 
expedition.  She  took  pains,  therefore,  to  throw 
an  extra  amount  of  surprise  into  her  tone  as  she 
exclaimed,  — 

"  Master  Huntoon  !  —  and  pray  how  happens 
it  that  you  are  acting  as  escort  to  the  Governor 
of  Maryland  ?  Or  is  it  but  out  of  courtesy  that 
you  are  walking  with  us  as  far  as  the  gates  of 
St.  Mary's?" 

"As  far  and  farther/'  answered  the  young  man, 
proudly. 

"  Not  to  St.  Gabriel's  !  " 

"  And  why  not,  pray  ?  Did  you  think  you 
were  the  only  person  honored  with  an  invitation  ? 
May  not  I  too  be  a  bidden  guest  ?  " 

"  But  you  were  to  sail  for  the  York  River  to 
morrow  or  next  day." 


112 


In  Good  Green  Wood 

"  Ay,"  answered  Huntoon,  with  some  embar 
rassment,  "  I  was ;  but  there  have  arisen  certain 
complications  with  which  I  chanced  to  be  con 
nected,  and  I  have  received  a  request  which  was 
as  near  a  command  as  befitted  the  message  of  a 
Governor  of  one  province  to  the  subject  of  an 
other,  asking  me  to  tarry  for  a  few  days  yet  and 
to  set  out  with  him  this  morning  for  St.  Gabriel's. 
It  was  not  till  an  hour  ago,"  he  added,  "that  I 
learned  what  cause  I  should  have  to  give  thanks 
for  my  assent." 

"  Come,  come,  young  people  ! "  called  Giles 
Brent;  "my  horse  has  more  sense  than  you,  for 
he  is  pawing  the  ground  and  eager  to  be  off. 
Since  we  can  move  but  at  a  snail's  pace  along 
the  trail,  which  is  harder  than  ever  to  keep,  with 
the  snow  on  it,  we  'd  best  waste  no  time.  I  will 
ride  in  front  to  prospect,  and  the  women  shall 
follow.  Do  you,  Huntoon,  v/alk  by  Mistress 
Neville's  bridle,  and  Neale  and  Cornwaleys  shall 
follow  as  a  rear  guard  keeping  a  sharp  look-out, 
for  wolves  and  other  wild  beasts  are  grown  des 
perate  with  hunger  in  this  cold  weather,  and  may 
be  met  when  least  expected." 

The  little  procession  took  up  its  line  of  march 
along  the  narrow  street  and  out  at  the  gate  which 
gave  upon  the  road  leading  across  country.  As 
they  wound  up  a  hill  that  lay  behind  the  town 
Peggy  turned  in  her  saddle  for  a  last  look  at 


Sir  Christopher 

the  huddle  of  log  cabins.  Hers  was  one  of 
those  tender  hearts  that  can  cling  to  bare  walls, 
so  they  be  hung  with  associations. 

The  scene  on  which  the  girl's  eyes  rested 
was  fair  enough  in  itself  to  need  no  associations 
to  give  it  interest.  From  the  height  she  could 
look  down  upon  the  broad,  placid  river  lying  in 
a  series  of  loops  like  little  lakes.  For  a  distance 
of  eight  miles  it  stretched  away  blue  as  the  sky 
above  it  till  it  merged  itself  in  the  dimmer  gray 
of  the  Potomac.  Across  the  river  rose  gently 
swelling  hills,  and  there  in  the  foreground  like 
a  giant  sentinel  loomed  the  great  mulberry  tree 
which  had  witnessed  Calvert's  dealings  with  the 
natives,  which  bore  on  its  trunk  placard  and 
proclamation,  and,  in  short,  served  most  of  the 
purposes  of  a  town  hall. 

Peggy  looked  long  over  the  enchanting  pros 
pect,  then  letting  her  eyes  fall  upon  the  hamlet 
of  St.  Mary's  she  scanned  the  little  group  of 
houses,  the  great  cross  in  the  centre,  the  smoke 
curling  up  from  the  mud  chimneys,  the  blue 
reach  of  the  stream  at  the  foot  of  the  bluff. 
Suddenly  she  gave  an  exclamation  of  amazement. 

"  Why,  where  is  Captain  Ingle's  ship  ? "  she 
asked,  turning  from  one  to  another  of  her 
companions. 

No  one  answered. 

"  I  saw  it  last  evening  at  sunset,"  she  went  on. 
114 


In  Good  Green  Wood 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,  for  I  went  down  to  the  wharf 
with  our  serving-man  to  buy  grain,  and  I  asked 
Captain  Ingle  when  he  would  be  off,  and  he 
said,  c  Not  for  some  time ; '  and  that  when  he 
went  he  would  fire  a  salute  of  five  guns  in  my 
honor." 

"  'T  is  like  his  insolence,"  muttered  Huntoon 
between  his  teeth. 

"Yes,  but  how  is  it  that  he  is  gone?  Surely, 
you  who  are  about  the  village  so  much  must 
have  heard  something  of  the  matter." 

The  mysterious  silence  continued  a  moment 
longer.  Then  Giles  Brent  said  repressively, — 

"  Master  Ingle  sailed  last  night." 

"  Oh,  so  you  do  know  all  about  it,"  cried  the 
irrepressible  Peggy. 

•"I  know  nothing  to  speak  of,"  answered 
Brent,  in  so  significant  a  tone  that  even  Peggy 
could  find  courage  for  no  rejoinder,  but  turned 
to  Huntoon  and  bade  him  walk  a  little  faster, 
or  the  donkey  would  tread  upon  his  heels. 

Huntoon  strode  on  as  perfectly  happy  as  is 
often  given  to  mortals  to  be  in  this  sadly  mixed 
world.  There  is  an  elation  in  the  solitude  of 
a  wilderness  at  any  time,  a  sense  of  freedom, 
of  room  for  soul-expansion,  and  there  is  a  beauty 
in  a  snow-clad  forest  that  summer  cannot  match. 
The  shadows  lay  in  long  blue  patches  on  the 
snow,  the  pine  trees  held  a  load  of  white  on 


Sir  Christopher 

their  wide-spreading  branches,  each  clump  of 
green  capped  with  glittering  frost.  The  gaunt 
branches  of  oak  and  maple  etched  themselves 
against  the  blue  of  the  morning  sky.  Every 
thing  in  nature  was  radiant.  Was  it  likely  that 
the  heart  of  the  young  man  who  walked  with 
the  rein  over  his  arm  was  less  jubilant  than  the 
scene  around  him  ? 

One  thing  only  troubled  him. 

He  could  think  of  nothing  to  say. 

At  last  he  saw  a  bunch  of  scarlet  berries  peep 
ing  out  of  the  snow  at  the  roots  of  a  great 
pine  tree.  He  stepped  aside  and  picked  them. 
When  he  came  back  he  handed  them  to  Peggy. 

"  What  are  these  for  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  thought  you  might  wear  them." 

"  So  I  do  not  look  well  enough  as  I  am  ?  " 

"  I  said  not  so." 

"  No,  but  you  thought  I   could  look    better, 

and  so  I   could   not  have  been  perfect  in    your 

tt 

eyes. 

"They  hang  offerings  on  the  neck  of  the 
statue  of  the  Madonna.  It  is  not  that  she  may 
look  better;  but  I  suppose  it  brings  her  nearer 
to  see  her  wearing  their  gifts,  be  they  never  so 
humble." 

"  You  are  quite  a  courtier,  Master  Huntoon," 
Peggy  answered  with  a  nervous  laugh;  "you 
are  thrown  away  upon  these  colonial  wilds  and 

116 


In  Good  Green  Wood 

should  betake  yourself  to  Whitehall.  The  King 
would  doubtless  lend  a  favorable  ear  to  your 
silver  tongue." 

"  Alas  !  "  sighed  Romney,  in  the  folly  of  his 
youth,  "what  care  I  what  the  King  might  say, 
if  the  Queen  will  not  listen  to  me?" 

What  further  softness  he  might  have  ven 
tured  on,  no  man  knoweth,  for  there  is  no  setting 
limits  to  the  weakness  of  lovers ;  but  his  speech 
was  interrupted  by  the  crack  of  the  fowling-piece 
from  behind,  and  looking  back  they  saw  Corn- 
waleys  stooping  to  pick  up  a  brace  of  quail  which 
his  gun  had  just  brought  down ;  and  which  he 
straightway  tossed  over  the  saddle  of  Anne,  the 
serving-woman,  bidding  her  pick  them  as  she 
rode. 

The  sun  climbed  higher  and  higher  till  its 
genial  warmth  began  to  make  itself  felt.  The 
icicles  let  fall  drop  after  drop  of  water,  slowly 
trickling  themselves  away.  The  snow-banks 
melted  into  gurgling  streams,  which  ran  along  on 
the  surface  till  they  sank  noiseless  into  the  soft 
ened  ground.  The  air,  balmy  with  the  scent  of 
pine  trees  and  mild  with  the  bracing  mildness  of 
dry  midwinter,  pulsated  in  the  perpendicular  rays 
of  the  noonday  sunlight.  "  Come,  friends,"  called 
Giles  Brent,  reining  in  his  horse  and  turning  in 
his  saddle  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  rest  of  his 
party,  who  could  by  no  means  keep  the  pace  he 

117 


Sir  Christopher 

set,  "  I  know  not  how  it  is  with  the  rest  of  you, 
but  one  man  here  hath  an  appetite  which  tells 
him  that  the  dinner  hour  is  come." 

"Here  is  another!"  cried  Cornwaleys. 

"  Ay,  and  a  third,"  came  from  Neale. 

"  How  say  you,  Huntoon,  has  your  walk  given 
you  a  zest  for  an  hour's  rest  and  a  bite  of  good 
victual  ? " 

"  I  ?  "  stammered  Huntoon.  "  Why,  to  say 
truth,  I  thought  we  had  but  just  set  out." 

At  this  Brent  laughed  and  cast  a  meaning 
glance  at  Peggy,  who  colored  redder  than  the 
bunch  of  berries  she  had  tucked  into  the  front  of 
her  cloak. 

"  There  may  be  a  magic  in  the  bridle-rein  of 
beauty  to  ward  off  hunger  and  fatigue  from  him 
who  touches  it ;  but  the  rest  of  us  poor  mortals 
have  felt  the  pangs  of  both ;  so,  as  we  are  come  to 
a  clearing,  with  two  logs  convenient  for  a  seat,  I 
counsel  that  we  make  a  halt  and  build  a  fire 
wherewith  to  test  Anne's  skill  as  a  cook." 

Peggy  slipped  from  her  saddle  and  opening 
the  bags  brought  out  the  bread  and  meat  and 
wine.  Cornwaleys  spitted  the  birds  upon  his 
sword,  and  Anne  twirled  them  before  the  fire, 
seasoning  them  as  they  cooked.  The  men  sat 
on  the  logs,  and  Peggy  laughed  and  sang  and 
poured  forth  a  flood  of  mirth  and  gaiety  which 
beguiled  the  anxious  men  about  her  from  all 

118 


In  Good  Green  Wood 

thought  of  care  and  worriment,  while  she  her 
self  was  like  a  meadow  lark  intoxicated  with  its 
own  music. 

"  Is  it  all  your  fancy  painted  —  this  ride 
through  the  forest?"  asked  Governor  Brent, 
smiling  as  he  seated  himself  beside  Peggy. 

"  I  should  say  so  !  —  all  and  more  —  the  very 
happiest  day  I  have  ever  known.  I  feel  as  if  I 
were  a  snow-bird  picking  up  crumbs  here  in  the 
desert.  1  think  I  will  never  live  in  a  house 
more.  I  would  we  were  all  going  back  together," 
added  Peggy,  after  a  little  pause. 

"  But  going  back  you  will  have  my  sister 
Margaret,  and  she  is  worth  us  all." 

"  Shall  I  not  be  afraid  of  her  ?  " 

"No-o,"  answered  Brent,  conscious  that  he 
had  known  times  when  he  was.  Then,  loyal  to 
kinship,  he  continued,  "  Margaret  is  a  fine  fellow. 
She  lives  out  the  motto  of  Lord  Baltimore, 
c  Deeds  are  masculine,  words  feminine.' ' 

"  Oh,  I  am  sure  I  should  be  afraid  with  her !" 

"  No,  you  will  not.  Margaret's  words  have 
both  weight  and  wit,  and  her  wit  bites  sometimes  ; 
but  it  is  like  a  blooded  dog  and  will  not  hurt  a 
friend.  How  often  I  have  wished  for  her  trench 
ant  common-sense  when  we  were  sitting  round 
the  council  table  and  the  men  droning  folly.  If 
she  came  in  it  would  be  like  a  north  wind  clearing 
the  air  of  dulness." 

119 


Sir  Christopher 

ec  Ah,  Huntoon  is  coming  this  way  with  a  cup 
of  sack.  I  like  that  youth.  There  is  meat  in 
his  discourse." 

"Oh  —  ay  —  vea/"  answered  Peggy,  scornfully. 

"  Hush,  you  naughty  girl  !  He  will  hear  you. 
Here,  Huntoon.  Pass  the  cup.  Drink  all  of 
you  to  the  happiest  day  Mistress  Peggy  has  ever 
known,  and  may  there  be  many  more  like  them  !  " 

When  the  noonday  meal  was  ended,  the  party 
took  up  the  line  of  march  once  more,  but  this 
time  Neale  walked  by  the  governor's  saddle. 

"  It  is  an  ugly  business  —  a  very  ugly  busi 
ness,"  Brent  began. 

"  Ay,  it  could  scarce  have  turned  out  worse." 

"  So  many  heard  the  row  that  the  tale  can 
scarce  be  suppressed,  and  Ellyson  is  full  of  wrath 
over  what  he  calls  his  wrongs." 

o 

"  We  will  advise  together  yonder  at  St.  Ga 
briel's.  Neville  is  ever  rich  in  suggestions,  and 
this  young  Virginian  behind  us  has  a  ready  wit 
of  his  own.  We  must  bring  the  matter  before 
the  Council  ;  but  they  will  be  sure  to  see  it  in  the 
same  light  as  we." 

"  They  may,  and  they  may  not,"  answered 
Neale.  "  The  chief  business  of  councils  from 
the  beginning  of  the  world  has  been  to  find 
a  scapegoat  and  then  to  send  him  out,  as  the 
Hebrews  did  theirs,  loaded  with  the  sins  of  the 


nation." 


120 


In  Good  Green  Wood 

"  Nay,  take  it  not  so  to  heart !  You  did  but 
as  I  should  have  done  in  your  place,  and  if  the 
Council  resent  the  escape  of  Ingle  and  fear  to  in 
volve  themselves  in  the  King's  displeasure  they 
must  deal  with  me  as  well  as  you.  We  are  both 
in  the  same  boat.  Faith,"  Brent  added  as  they 
came  to  a  swampy  place,  "  it  would  be  well  to 
have  an  actual  boat  if  we  come  to  many  spots  like 
this.  It  should  be  one  of  the  first  pieces  of  work 
done  in  the  province  to  lay  a  road  where  a  Chris 
tian  may  travel  without  losing  his  way  or  wading 
to  his  chin.  Climb  up  behind  my  saddle,  and 
my  horse  shall  save  your  heels/' 

Neale  did  as  he  was  bid,  and  they  waited  to 
see  how  the  rest  would  manage.  Anne  was 
transferred  to  a  seat  behind  Mistress  Neville,  and 
Huntoon  and  Cornwaleys  mounted  the  maid's 
donkey.  Their  legs  were  so  long  and  the  don 
key's  so  short  that  they  were  forced  to  hold  their 
knees  half-way  to  their  chins,  and  cut  so  sorry  a 
figure  that  the  others  who  were  safely  across 
stood  shaking  their  sides  with  laughter. 

Cornwaleys,  being  over  thirty  and  a  man  of 
sense,  joined  in  the  laughter  ;  but  Romney  Hun- 
toon,  being  twenty  and  in  love,  turned  sulky,  and 
walked  along  in  would-be  dignified  silence  in  his 
old  place  at  Peggy's  bridle.  As  he  grew  solemn 
she  grew  lively,  and  entertained  him  with  rambling 
tales  of  her  wild  doings  before  ever  she  came  out 


121 


Sir  Christopher 

of  England,  how  she  had  ridden  a  horse  after  all 
the  grooms  had  given  him  up,  how  she  had  stolen 
away  from  home  and  gone  down  the  lane  at  mid 
night  to  get  her  future  told  by  an  old  gypsy 

woman.  .      .    , 

In  spite  of  himself  Huntoon's  interest  kindled. 
«  These  gypsy  horoscopes  have  something  un 
cannily  like  truth  in  them,"  he  said.      <  Tell  me, 
did  the  old  crone  predict  aught  about  — about 
your  marriage  ?" 

"Oh  ay,  to  be  sure.  What  gypsy  would 
ever  get  her  palm  crossed  with  silver  twice 
by  a  maiden,  if  she  failed  to  promise  her 

husband  ?  " 

"  So  she  described  him  —  " 

"To  the  length  of  his  shoe-string  and  the 
color  of  his  doublet." 

"  Hm  !     What  said  she  of  his  looks  ? 

Peggy  cast  a  malicious  look  at  the  dark  curls 
and  the  clean  lip  and  chin  beside  her. 

«  Oh,  she  set  him  off  to  the  top  of  my  satis 
faction!     He  was  to  be  like  a  Viking  of  >  old 
with  fair  hair  and  mustachios  like  that—     and 
Peggy  twirled  her  fingers  off  at  either  side  of 

dimples. 

"  I  am  glad  to  know  the  manner  of  man  you 
do  prefer,"  said  Romney,  stiffly,  and  they  went 
on  in  silence  for  several  minutes,  and  Mistress 
Peggy  quite  at  her  ease  nevertheless. 


In  Good  Green  Wood 

she  broke  the  pause,  saying,  "  Do  you  remember 
what  night  the  last  was  ?  " 

"  Surely  I  do,  for  I  noted  it  on  Governor 
Brent's  order  for  Ingle's  arrest  posted  on  the 
tavern  door.  'Twas  the  twentieth  of  January." 

"Ay,    the    twentieth;     and    what    night    was 

that?" 

"  In  truth  I  know  not.  Being  no  Papist  1 
keep  scant  account  of  Saints'  days." 

"  Nor  I  either  for  the  most  part ;  but  this 
was  a  very  particular  night  indeed."  Then,  with 
great  impressiveness,  "  //  was  the  Eve  of  St. 
Agnes." 

"And  what  of  that  ?" 

"Why,  'tis  on  that  night  every  maid  may  see 
her  future  husband,  —  that  is,  if  she  have  the  wit 
to  go  about  it  the  right  way." 

"  And  did  you  go  about  it  the  right  way  ? " 

Peggy  nodded. 

"  And  after  what  fashion  was  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  after  dusk  I  went  to  my  chamber  as 
usual,  and  I  took  off  my  garter  —  you  must,  you 
know,  or  the  charm  will  not  work.  It  must  be 
the  left  garter  too,  so  I  took  it,  and  knit  three 
knots  in  it,  and  then  with  my  eyes  shut  I  said 
the  rhyme  —  " 

"  What  rhyme  ?  " 

"  Stupid  !  You  don't  seem  to  know  anything. 
Why,  this  rhyme,  of  course, — 

123 


Sir  Christopher 

"  *  I  knit  this  knot,  this  knot  I  knit 

To  know  the  thing  I  know  not  yet  — 

That  I  may  see 

The  man  that  shall  my  husband  be, 

Not  in  his  best  or  worst  array 

But  what  he  weareth  every  day, 

That  I  to-morrow  may  him  ken 

From  among  all  other  men.'  " 

"  And  then  did  you  see  him  ?  " 

"  No,  not  yet.  After  I  had  said  the  charm  I 
lay  down  and  folded  my  hands  like  St.  Agnes, 
and  sure  enough  as  soon  as  I  fell  asleep  a  young 
man  appeared  before  me.  There  he  stood,  as 
large  as  life  and  as  clear  as  day." 

"  Yes,"  said  Romney,  eagerly  ;  "  and  what  like 
was  he  ? " 

"  Why,  there  's  the  queer  thing,"  answered 
Peggy,  "his  mouth  and  his  curls  and  his  odd- 
shaped  nose  were  the  image  of  thine." 

"What  is  wrong  with  my  nose?  I  have  always 
thought  well  of  it  —  " 

"  Oh,  't  is  a  proper  nose  enough.  No  doubt 
an  excellent  and  serviceable  nose  for  all  practical 
purposes ;  but  for  pure  beauty  it  might  be  better 
without  the  little  hump  in  the  middle  of  the 
bridge,  and  with  the  nostrils  set  closer  —  but  no 
matter  !  such  as  it  is,  the  vision  bore  it  too,  and 
the  eyes  were  like  also  and  the  brows.  There 
was  the  whole  face  and  figure,  so  like  that  any 

124 


In  Good  Green  Wood 

seeing  them  would  have  cried  out,  c  'T  is  Master 
Huntoon  to  the  life.'  " 

"Peggy!" 

"But  —  " 

"  Nay,  no  buts  —  " 

"I  must,  for  'tis  the  strangest  of  all  —  but  his 
doublet  was  as  like  as  two  peas  to  the  one  Captain 
Cornwaleys  wears  this  morning,  and  his  figure 
was  the  captain's  too,  height  and  all.  Now,  what 
is  a  poor  maid  to  do  under  such  distracting  con 
fusions  ?  " 

"  Mistress  Neville,  you  are  a  coquette." 

Peggy  raised  her  eyebrows  till  they  arched  like 
a  rainbow. 

"  I  'd  rather  be  a  tailor  and  make  coats  for  the 
moon  than  fit  myself  to  your  humors." 

"  Every  man  knows  best  what  trade  fits  him  ; 
and  now  you  have  spoken  of  it,  the  goose  doth 
seem  your  proper  symbol. 

"Yes,"  Romney  went  on,  growing  more  and 
more  nettled,  "  the  moon  changes  but  every 
quarter,  while  to  meet  the  changes  of  your  whims 
a  man  must  be  on  tip-toe  every  hour." 

"Tip -toe  —  ah,  yes!  now  I  do  recall  that  the 
vision  was  on  tip-toe  and  looking  first  at  the 
moon  and  then  at  me,  as  though  he  knew  not 
which  he  liked  the  best." 

"  It  is  my  belief  you  never  saw  any  such  vision." 

"  Perhaps  I  was  mistook.     Anyway,  the  charm 
'25 


Sir  Christopher 

has  not  come  true,  for  it  said  I  was  to  meet 
the  man  I  should  marry  to-day,  and  you  see 
for  yourself  he  is  not  here.  Now  my  limbs 
are  weary  sitting  so  long ;  I  think  I  will  try 
walking." 

With  this  she  slipped  from  her  saddle  and 
walked  on  a  few  steps  in  advance  of  Romney, 
humming  as  she  went, — 

"  *  I  am  as  I  am,  and  so  will  I  be  ; 

But  how  that  I  am,  none  knoweth  truly  ; 
Be  it  ill,  be  it  well,  be  I  bond,  be  I  free, 
I  am  as  I  am,  and  so  will  I  be.'  ' 

There  was  a  peculiar  quality  in  Peggy's  voice 
that  made  it  an  interpreter  of  her  personality. 
It  had  as  many  changes  in  it  as  her  moods. 
Now  it  sounded  like  a  church  bell  over  distant 
meadows,  now  like  a  child  praying  at  its  mother's 
knee,  and  then  would  come  a  sudden  break  of 
laughter  like  the  trill  of  a  bobolink  shooting 
Parthian  arrows  of  song  as  he  flies. 

Huntoon  followed  her,  watching  the  scarlet 
cloak  against  the  green  background  of  the  pines, 
and  the  stray  curls  that  the  wind  blew  backward 
as  she  walked.  Neale  and  Cornwaleys  were  far 
behind  beyond  the  turn  in  the  road.  At  length 
he  could  bear  it  no  longer.  They  were  alone. 
He  drew  closer  and  whispered  something  in  her 
ear. 

126 


In  Good  Green  Wood 

"  Indeed  !  And  pray  what  of  it?  "  answered 
the  girl,  coolly. 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  of  it/'  said  the  young 
man  between  his  teeth.  "  I  am  not  to  be  treated 
as  I  have  seen  you  treat  those  tame  gallants  in 
the  town  back  there.  When  I  tell  you  I  love 
you,  you  may  refuse  the  love  and  you  may  say 
me  nay  ;  but  you  shall  hear  me  out  with  respect, 
and  you  shall  give  me  a  serious  answer,  as  the 
true  love  of  an  honorable  man  deserves  whether 
it  be  returned  or  no." 

Peggy  did  not  turn,  but  she  listened.  This 
masterful  note  in  his  voice  was  a  new  thing.  She 
could  scarcely  have  told  whether  she  liked  it  or 
resented  it  —  perhaps  a  little  of  both.  Certainly 
she  was  not  inclined  to  accept  it  meekly  or  with 
out  protest.  As  Huntoon  finished  speaking, 
Peggy  had  just  bent  forward  a  pine  bough  that 
she  might  pass  without  stepping  in  the  mud. 
A  wicked  impulse  seized  the  girl,  and  releasing 
the  branch  suddenly  she  stepped  aside,  and  the 
bough  struck  Huntoon  sharply  in  the  face,  his 
cheek  reddening  under  the  blow  of  its  stiif 
needles. 

In  an  instant  Peggy  was  sorry  for  her  naughty 
trick,  and  turned  with  an  apology  on  her  lips ; 
but  without  a  word  Huntoon  seized  her  in  his 
arms,  and  kissed  her  passionately. 

A  red  spot  of  anger  showed  itself  in  Peggy 
127 


Sir  Christopher 

Neville's  cheek.  She  stopped  and  stamped  her 
foot. 

"  How  dare  you  ?  "  she  exclaimed. 

Romney  made  no  answer  —  only  stood  looking 
at  her.  At  last  he  said,  "  I  forgive  you." 

This  was  too  much. 

What  Peggy  might  have  said  in  answer  can 
never  be  set  down,  for  at  this  moment  the  donkey, 
whose  rein  had  slipped  ofTHuntoon's  arm,  finding 
himself  free  of  restraint,  kicked  up  his  heels  and 
set  off  at  full  gallop  along  the  path.  Huntoon 
started  after  him  at  his  fastest  pace,  whilst  Peggy 
could  not  to  save  her  life  refrain  from  bursting 
into  a  fit  of  laughter  at  this  undignified  ending  of 
a  lovers'  quarrel. 

As  the  donkey,  and  Huntoon  following  after, 
rushed  past  Brent,  the  Governor's  horse  shied  so 
violently  into  the  bushes  that  the  rider  had  hard 
work  to  keep  his  seat.  In  his  vexation  Brent 
called  out,  — 

"  I  would  there  were  as  many  donkeys  in  the 
province  with  four  feet  as  with  two.  Chase  him, 
Huntoon  !  Not  that  way  !  —  to  the  left  —  to 
the  left  !  " 

Huntoon  had  lost  sight  of  the  donkey ;  but 
now  catching  the  last  words,  he  turned  to  the  left, 
following  the  trail  of  the  animal's  feet  in  the  new- 
fallen  snow.  Brent  paused  a  moment  and  then 
started  after  him,  for  it  was  no  light  matter  to  be 

128 


In  Good  Green  Wood 

lost  in  the  woods,  and  the  path  the  young  man 
had  taken  was  an  unfinished  one  ending  in  a 
tangle,  though  a  side  path  connected  it  with  the 
main  road  to  St.  Mary's. 

The  fallen  leaves  lying  thick  in  the  forest  path 
crackled  like  brown  icicles  as  they  crisped  be 
neath  the  horse's  hoofs,  and  Brent  held  a  tight 
rein  to  prevent  his  slipping.  Huntoon's  pace 
was  swifter  and  he  was  gaining  rapidly  ;  but  be 
fore  he  had  gone  fifty  rods,  he  stopped  suddenly. 

"My  God!"  he  cried.  His  breath  came  in 
deep  gasps,  and  the  sweat  stood  out  in  beads  on 
his  forehead. 

"  Huntoon  !  Huntoon  !     Where  are  you?  " 

"  Here/' 

"Where's  your  voice,  man?  I  can  scarce 
hear  it.  And  how  white  you  are,  like  one  who 
has  seen  a  ghost." 

"I  have.     LOOK  THERE!" 


129 


CHAPTER   VIII 

A    CLUE 

AT    Huntoon's    exclamation,    Giles    Brent 
dashed  forward  still  faster,  and  then  he 
too  stopped   short   and  stood  at  gaze, 
for  there  in   the  centre  of  the  blazed   path  lay 
the  body  of  a  dead  priest,  his  cloak  and  cassock 
showing  black  against  the  whiteness  around,  his 
arms  outstretched  as  if  on  a  cross. 

The  snow  lay  upon  his  breast  in  delicate, 
ruffling  drifts ;  above  him  circled  a  hawk  with 
ominous,  flapping  wings  ;  around,  far  as  eye  could 
reach,  stretched  the  interminable  forest.  Utter 
solitude!  Complete  isolation  from  humankind! 
Yet  from  that  solitary  figure  stretched  threads 
of  destiny  which  should  be  found  twisted  close 
about  the  heartstrings  of  many  fellow-beings. 

With  a  shock  Brent  recognized  in  the  pros 
trate  form  the  Jesuit  priest  whom  he  had  left  at 
St.  Gabriel's  but  two  days  since,  the  same  man 
against  whose  too  constant  visits  he  had  found 
it  necessary  to  caution  his  sister ;  and  now  to 
meet  him  thus  I 

130 


A  Cl 


ue 


He  rushed  toward  the  body  and  knelt  beside 
it.  Tearing  away  cloak  and  cassock  and  hair- 
shirt  under  all,  he  leaned  his  ear  above  the  heart. 
For  a  full  minute  he  listened. 

"  He  is  dead/'  he  said  at  last,  "  and  mus* 
have  been  dead  for  hours." 

"  You  know  him  ?  " 

(C  Ay,  he  is  one  of  the  Fathers  at  St.  Inigo's. 
He  was  staying  with  my  sister  Mary  at  St. 
Gabriel's,  and  probably  had  started  on  the  journey 
back  to  the  Hill  when  this  overtook  him  ; "  and 
Brent  began  rapidly  to  repeat  a  prayer  for  the 
dead. 

Huntoon  stood  by  in  silence  with  bowed  head. 
When  Brent  had  finished  Huntoon  said,  — 

"  Did  he  — was  death  natural  ?  " 

Brent  shook  his  head  gloomily.  "  Look,"  he 
said;  and  as  Huntoon  stooped,  he  drew  aside  the 
shirt  and  showed  a  wound  on  the  left  side  above 
the  fifth  rib.  The  clothing  below  it  was  dark 
and  stiff  with  blood.  No  words  were  needed  to 
tell  the  tale. 

cc  It  must  have  been  done  by  a  native,"  said 
Huntoon. 

"  Ay,  't  was  a  deed  of  revenge  or  pure  malice, 
—  either  of  a  native  or,  perhaps,  of  some  of  the 
Protestants.  To  say  truth,  Father  Mohl  had 
many  enemies  among  them.  He  has  been  a 
great  stirrer  up  of  dissension  'twixt  Catholic  and 


Sir  Christopher 


Protestant,  and  't  is  partly  on  account  of  him  and 
his  brethren  that  Leonard  Calvert  is  gone  home 
to  consult  with  Lord  Baltimore.  Father  Mohl 
had  ever  a  sneering  way  with  him,  and  to  look  at 
him  one  would  say  he  had  taken  it  with  him  to 
the  next  world." 

"  Ay,  't  is  a  ghastly  smile  !  Think  you  could 
we  draw  the  lips  more  together  and  close  the  eye 
lids  above  that  horrible  stare  ?  " 

"  You  can  try.      Nay —  't  is  vain." 
"Hulloa!     Hulloa!     Hulla-ho ! " 
The  distant  call   brought  back   the  two  men 
for  the  first  time  to  the  thought  of  their  com 
rades.      Huntoon  looking  round  saw  that  the  don 
key  had  entangled  his  reins  in  the  low  branches 
of  a  tree  near  by.     As  he  moved  toward  it  Brent 
called  out,  — 

"  Nay,  leave  him  there  !  We  shall  have  need 
of  him.  Take  my  horse  and  go  back  to  the 
women,  and  prepare  them  for  what  they  must 
see.  Mount  Mistress  Neville  on  Anne's  donkey, 
then  stay  you  with  them  and  my  horse,  and  send 
Neale  and  Cornwaleys  back  to  help  me  here." 

The  younger  man  bowed  and  turned  back  as 
he  was  bidden.  At  the  joining  of  the  road  he 
saw  the  four  grouped  where  he  had  left  them, 
Neale  and  Cornwaleys  talking  in  low  tones,  and 
Peggy  feeding  nuts  to  a  wild  squirrel  half  tamed 
by  the  magic  of  her  voice. 

132 


A  Clue 

"Come,  bunny  !  bunny!  bunny!  Here'sfresh 
nuts  gathered  in  the  woods  this  fall.  Be  not 
afraid!  I'm  as  harmless  as  thou.  I  have  no 
gun  and  could  not  fire  it  if  I  had.  Nay,  do  not 
cock  thy  head  and  turn  thy  black  eye  toward 
Captain  Cornwaleys  !  He  reserves  his  fire  for 
larger  game.  Why,  he  will  not  even  shoot  a 
glance  at  me,  for  all  I  have  on  my  best  bib  and 
tucker." 

The  Captain,  who  for  some  time  had  been 
chafing  under  the  too  pressing  demands  on  his 
power  of  listening  made  by  Neale,  broke  away 
now  and  drew  near  Peggy. 

"  I  am  honored  that  Mistress  Neville  is  willing 
to  share  her  attention  between  me  and  a  squirrel, 
or  perhaps,  as  I  seem  to  have  the  minor  share,  I 
might  better  say  between  a  squirrel  and  me." 

"  That  should  be  set  down  to  my  modesty.  I 
felt  more  equal  to  the  task  of  amusing  a  squirrel 
than  Sir  Thomas  Cornwaleys  of  Cross  Manor." 

"  And  to  the  same  cause,  perchance,  I  am  to  set 
down  the  gracious  pleasure  wherewith  you  have 
received  the  devotion  of  that  young  gallant  from 
Virginia  who  has  walked  by  your  bridle-rein  since 
ever  we  left  St.  Mary's." 

"  'T  was  the  Governor's  orders." 

"  Ay,  and  no  doubt  vastly  displeasing  to  your 
ladyship." 

"  Oh,  I  enjoy  talking  to  any  one  ;  the  one  thing 


Sir  Christopher 


I  cannot  abide  is  solitude.  Is  not  that  a  sign  of 
a  vacant  mind  ?  " 

"  Rather,  I  should  say,  of  a  mind  filled  with 
some  one  person  —  " 

"  Do  I  look  like  a  love-sick  maid  ?  " 

"  No,  but  that  condition  doth  oft  lie  hid  under 
quips  and  smiles.  A  girl  will  pick  up  her  skirts 
and  go  lilting  over  hill  and  dale  light-hearted, 
the  looker-on  would  think,  as  a  milk-maid,  and 
all  the  while  some  love-sorrow  eating  into  her 
heart  like  a  canker-worm.  Now,  a  man  is  not 
so.  He  goes  about  biting  his  thumb  and  scowl 
ing  at  every  son  of  Adam  that  speaks  to  his 
sweetheart,  and,  for  the  matter  of  that,  often 
enough  scowling  at  his  sweetheart  herself,  as  that 
callow  boy  has  been  doing  all  day." 

"  Faith,  I  gave  him  cause." 

"  The  more  fool  he  to  let  you  see  that  your 
teasing  had  met  with  such  success.  However,  I 
care  little  how  he  feels,  so  long  as  you  are  heart- 
whole  ;  but  in  the  name  of  all  the  gallants  of 
Maryland  I  do  protest  against  seeing  Mistress 
Margaret  Neville,  on  all  hands  allowed  to  be 
the  most  charming  damsel  in  St.  Mary's,  carried 
off  by  an  interloping  Virginian.  Troth,  if  the 
boys  don't  oust  him  I  '11  enter  the  lists  myself." 

"  Truly  ?  " 

"  Try  me  and  see  !  " 

Peggy  burst  out  into  a  merry  ringing  laugh, 


A  Clue 

suddenly  interrupted  by  the  sight  of  Romney 
Huntoon  coming  toward  them  with  white,  drawn 
face  and  set  teeth. 

The  talk  and  laughter  died  on  the  lips  of  the 
two  who  saw  him. 

"  Oh,  what  is  it  ?  "  said  Peggy,  running  to  meet 
him.  "  Sure,  something  dreadful  hath  befallen  ! 
Governor  Brent  —  is  he  killed  ?  " 

"  No,  he  is  well  —  he  sent  me  hither ;  but  — 
there  has  been  an  accident  — 

"  Are  you  hurt,  that  you  look  so  white  ? " 

"  No,  no ;  no  one  you  know  is  injured  — 
but  a  stranger,  a  priest,  has  been  struck  with  a 
knife  and  killed.  " 

It  was  Peggy's  turn  to  grow  pale  now.  Here 
she  had  been  laughing  and  lightly  jesting  while 
this  tragedy  was  brushing  her  so  closely  with  its 
sable  wings. 

"  Master  Neale,"  Huntoon  said,  turning  to 
the  Councillor,  cc  you  and  Captain  Cornwaleys 
are  to  follow  this  path  till  you  find  Governor 
Brent,  and  help  him  to  lift  the  body  of  the  priest 
to  the  donkey's  back ;  Mistress  Neville,  you 
are  to  ride  before  Anne  on  her  donkey  here." 

"  Could  I  not  be  of  use  if  I  went  too  to  the 
Governor? " 

"  Hast  thou  ever  looked  on  death  ? " 

"  Never,  to  remember  it.  My  mother  died 
when  I  was  a  little  child  and  my  father  at  sea." 


Sir  Christopher 

"Then  do  not  look  upon  that  corpse  yonder. 
I  have  seen  a  dead  baby  and  it  looked  like  a 
waxen  lily,  and  I  have  seen  a  man  shot  by  an 
Indian's  arrow  and  he  looked  grand  and  stern 
like  a  marble  statue,  but  this  priest  was  ghastly, 
horrible.  No,  I  am  sure  the  Governor  would 
not  wish  you  to  see  it.  Mount,  and  we  will  ride 
on  and  prepare  the  household  at  St.  Gabriel's. " 

When  Romney  had  left  him  Giles  Brent 
stooped  over  the  body  of  the  dead  priest.  "My 
God ! "  he  murmured,  "  were  not  things  in 
this  unhappy  colony  tangled  enough  without 
this  new  trouble  ?  There  is  a  deviltry  here  that 
must  be  sifted  to  the  bottom.  We  must  mark 
this  tree  by  which  the  corpse  lies.  The  distance 
must  be  two  miles  from  St.  Gabriel's  and  within 
ten  paces  of  the  cross  trail  from  the  main  path. 
If  there  is  any  clue  we  must  follow  it.  There 
should  be  footsteps ;  but  the  fresh  snow  has 
covered  them  whichever  way  they  turned. 
Death  must  have  been  mercifully  swift  from 
such  a  wound." 

As  if  to  put  an  end  to  these  disconnected 
thoughts,  he  stooped  and  turned  the  body  on 
its  side.  As  he  did  so,  something  fell  from  the 
folds  of  the  cloak.  Giles  Brent  looked  at  it, 
studied  it  more  closely  with  a  gaze  of  fixed 
amazement,  and  then  as  he  heard  the  sound  of 
approaching  footsteps  slipped  it  into  his  pocket. 

136 


A  Clue 

But  his  face  was  ashen  as  he  spoke  to  Neale,  who 
was  in  advance. 

"Come,  Neale,  do  you  lift  on  that  side  and 
I  on  this,  while  Cornwaleys  may  bind  him  to 
the  saddle  with  the  rope  he  will  find  in  my 
saddle-bag.  So  —  gently  there  —  now  steady 
him  !  Cornwaleys,  take  the  bridle  and  lead  on 
gently.  Thank  Heaven,  the  distance  is  short !  " 

"Hast  thou  —  is  there  any  clue  ?  "  asked  Neale. 

"  Nay,  who  shall  say  what  is  a  clue  ?  Heaven 
forbid  I  should  even  in  thought  accuse  an  in 
nocent  man,  but  as  God  is  my  judge,  if  the  guilt 
be  proven  the  murderer  shall  be  punished,  ay, 
though  he  were  mine  own  brother." 

Slowly  the  men  set  forward,  —  Neale  and 
Cornwaleys  supporting  their  terrible  burden 
between  them,  Brent  walking  behind  with  his 
horse's  bridle-rein  over  his  arm,  and  his  head 
bowed  as  if  with  a  burden  too  heavy  to  be  borne. 

"Who  could  have  thought  it?"  he  mur 
mured.  "Who  could  have  believed  it  of  him 
of  all  men  ?  " 

Raising  his  eyes,  he  caught  sight  of  the  little 
party  in  advance,  Peggy  in  her  scarlet  cloak  and 
Romney  by  her  side.  The  sight  seemed  to  give 
rise  to  new  and  still  more  painful  reflections. 

"  Poor  child,"  he  thought,  "  would  it  were  pos 
sible  to  punish  the  guilty  without  bringing  down 
shame  and  sorrow  on  the  innocent  as  well  !  " 


Sir  Christopher 

On  and  on  the  caravan  moved  till  the  last 
bend  in  the  road  was  reached,  and  there,  beyond 
the  clearing,  lay  the  manor  house  of  St.  Gabriel's. 

The  sun  was  setting  behind  the  hills  and 
touching  the  white  tips  of  the  snow-covered  trees 
with  flame.  The  smoke  curled  from  the  kitchen 
chimney  and  the  fire  on  the  hearth  of  the  hall 
shone  out  merrily  to  greet  the  travellers. 

Giles  Brent  was  expected,  and  he  rarely  came 
alone.  His  sister  Mary,  who  had  all  day  been 
regretting  that  he  could  not  be  present  at  the 
investiture  of  Elinor's  tenant,  was  resolved  that  a 
noble  supper  should  console  him  for  the  loss. 
Venison  pasty  flanked  by  game  graced  the  head 
and  foot  of  the  table,  and  hot  bowls  of  soup 
simmered  before  the  kitchen  fire. 

Cecil  was  stationed  at  the  window  to  keep 
watch  and  bring  early  report  of  the  approach  of 
the  cloaked  rider  on  his  black  Flemish  horse. 

Already  they  had  been  seen,  for  Cecil  and 
Knut  were  tearing  across  the  snowy  fields,  and 
Mary  Brent  and  Elinor  were  at  the  door  with 
two  men  by  their  side.  Brent's  heart  rose  in 
his  throat  and  choked  him  as  he  recognized 
Christopher  Neville  waving  his  hand  in  joyous 
welcome. 

Oh,  treachery !  And  who  was  that  beside  him 
—  Ralph  Ingle?  Well,  he  might  be  of  use. 
'Twas  as  well  that  he  had  come.  Ah,  now  Peggy 

138 


A  Clue 

had  reached  the  door.  She  was  telling  the  story. 
Brent's  eye  never  moved  from  Christopher's  face 
while  it  went  on,  and  he  noted  with  grim  satisfac 
tion  that  at  least  the  man  had  the  grace  to  shud 
der  and  turn  pale.  But  what  was  this? — instead 
of  hiding  himself  as  he  should  from  the  gaze  of 
honest  men,  he  was  coming  forward  toward  him, 
toward  /'/  / 

"This  is  a  sad  business,  Brent!" 

"  Sad  is  not  the  word  ;  't  is  a  shameful  business." 

"  Ay,  full  of  shame  for  the  doer,  and  sadness 
for  the  rest  of  us.  Can  I  help  in  lifting  the 
body  ? " 

"  Nay,  that  is  for  those  to  do  who,  if  they  loved 
him  not,  yet  bore  him  no  malice." 

Neville  started.  How  could  Brent  have  heard 
of  the  quarrel  when  he  was  absent  ? 

"  Not  only  am  I  one  of  those,  but  I  sought 
this  priest  last  night  to  beg  his  pardon." 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Brent,  hoarsely,  "  incriminate 
thyself  no  further  !  " 

"  INCRIMINATE  !  "  —  That  one  word  cast  a  lurid 
light  upon  the  situation.  In  an  instant  Neville 
saw  the  pitfalls  around  his  path,  and  the  habit  of 
facing  danger  had  taught  him  the  habit  of  self- 
control. 

"This,"  he  said,  looking  Brent  full  in  the 
face,  "  is  neither  the  time  nor  the  place  for  the 
discussion  of  your  words  and  all  that  they  do 

139 


Sir  Christopher 

imply.  I  shall  hold  myself  ready  to  meet  you 
when  and  where  you  will,  to  answer  any  and 
all  charges,  whether  they  come  from  friend  or 
foe/' 

As  Neville  turned  on  his  heel  he  was  aware 
for  the  first  time  that  Ralph  Ingle  had  been 
standing  close  beside  him,  and  of  necessity  over 
hearing  all  that  was  said.  He  in  turn  could  not 
fail  to  catch  Ingle's  words  addressed  to  Brent: 

"  Surely,  this  judgment  is  over  hasty.  I  have 
known  Sir  Christopher  but  one  day,  yet  am  I 
loath  —  " 

"  Thou  loath  !  and  pray  what  dost  think  of 
me  ?  Why,  I  had  torn  my  heart  out  rather  than 
believe  such  a  thing  of  my  friend  ;  but  justice  is 
justice." 

"  Yet  mercy  is  mercy." 

"  Ay,  but  mercy  to  one  is  injustice  to  another. 
And  this  deed  is  so  dastardly  it  puts  the  doer 
beyond  the  pale  of  clemency." 

"And  who  is  the  doer  of  the  deed  ?  "  It  was 
Mistress  Calvert's  voice  that  spoke,  and  both 
men  started. 

Elinor  Calvert  stood  there  before  them  in  her 
dress  of  white  and  gold.  She  who  had  come 
lightly  walking  across  the  snow-covered  fields, 
holding  her  head  high  and  bidding  her  heart  not 
to  beat  too  joyously,  seemed  now  like  some 
animal  decked  for  the  sacrifice,  that  has  been 

140 


A  Clue 

allowed  to  make  merry  on  the  journey  to  the 
altar,  but  now  must  bare  its  breast  to  the 
sacrificial  knife. 

"Who  is  the  doer  of  the  deed?"  Even  as 
she  put  the  question  she  knew  the  answer,  yet 
she  stood  her  ground  and  gazed  steadfastly  at  the 
men,  whose  eyes  fell  before  hers. 

Ralph  Ingle  looked  at  the  earth  and  began  to 
stir  with  his  foot  a  brown  branch  of  ground-pine 
which  had  pushed  its  way  through  the  snow. 

Brent  stroked  the  donkey's  ears  for  an  instant, 
swallowed  hard,  hesitated,  then  spoke  impul 
sively,  "Elinor,  there  is  no  use  in  attempting  to 
hide  it.  The  man  who  did  that  foul  murder 
is  Christopher  Neville" 

"  NEVER  ! " 

"  Ay,  so  I  would  have  sworn  two  hours  since ; 
but  tell  me  one  thing  —  did  he  and  the  priest 
quarrel  here  at  St.  Gabriel's  last  night?" 

«Ay  —  but—  " 

"Nay,  no  buts  —  plain  facts  tell  their  own 
story  with  no  (  buts.'  Did  he  or  did  he  not  start 
out  into  the  night  after  the  quarrel  with  Father 
Mohl  ?  " 

Elinor  quivered  as  though  the  knife  had 
entered  her  own  heart. 

"  Oh,  I  will  not  answer  !  How  can  I  when  I 
know  every  word  will  be  twisted  to  one  fell 


purpose  ? ' 


141 


Sir  Christopher 


"  Elinor,  what  is  it  to  thee  what  befalls  a  man 
whom  thou  didst  meet  but  yesterday  ?  " 

"  That  is  false.  I  knew  him  years  ago  in 
England.  Years  ago  he  loved  me  and  I  loved 
him,  and  we  would  have  wedded  but  for —  " 

"  But  for  what,  Elinor  ?  " 

"  For  his  faith." 

*c  Ah,  thou  hast  said  the  word.  Now  we  have 
the  thread  to  guide  us  through  this  dark  maze. 
Neville  loves  thee  still.  He  follows  thee  to  this 
country,  he  begs  me  to  intercede  with  thee  to 
accept  him  as  thy  tenant,  and  all  without  a  word 
of  having  known  thee  before;  not  a  word,  you  see, 
Ingle,  even  to  me,  this  woman's  natural  guardian. 
Doth  it  not  smack  of  deceit  and  treachery  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  deny  it  hath  that  appearance,  yet 
beware  how  you  do  wholly  commit  yourself  to 
appearances  !  " 

"  Ay,  if  appearances  were  all,  but  listen  how 
the  story  all  fits  together.  Faith,  I  can  tell  it 
as  though  I  had  seen  all.  This  man  comes  to 
St.  Gabriel's,  and  finding  Mistress  Calvert  alone 
he  tells  her  of  his  love.  She,  like  the  good 
Catholic  she  is,  tells  him  in  turn  that  his  faith 
still  stands  between  them.  He  swears  at  the 
fanatical  priests  who  stand  between  her  and  him. 
Is  not  this  all  true  so  far,  Cousin  ?  " 

No   response ;    but  the    silence   answers    him. 

"  Next  comes  a  quarrel' twixt  Neville  and  Father 
142 


A  Clue 

Mohl,  how  bred  I  cannot  say,  though  doubtless 
this  lady  could  tell  us  if  she  would ;  but,  by  my 
guess,  at  her  behest  her  lover  follows  the  priest 
to  ask  pardon  ;  then  —  then  —  the  rest  is  known 
to  God  only,  but  the  result  we  see  lying  before 
us  in  mute  and  ghastly  protest  at  the  wrong  done 
to  humanity." 

"  Shame,  Cousin  Giles,  that  you  are  so  ready  to 
think  evil  of  your  friend  !  What  is  all  this  tale 
of  thine  when  sifted  ?  A  tissue  of  what  was,  and 
what  might  have  been.  You  have  shown  a  possi 
ble  motive,  but  't  is  a  far  cry  from  that  to  proving 
the  deed." 

And  what  say  you,  then,  to  this  ?  As  he  spoke, 
Brent  drew  from  his  pocket  a  poniard,  with  a 
handle  curiously  inlaid  with  silver  and  ivory,  and 
cut  upon  it  the  initial  "  JV"  sunk  in  a  deep  circle. 

Elinor's  only  answer  was  a  deep  groan.  Draw 
ing  her  cloak  close  round  her,  she  turned  and  fled 
toward  the  house,  her  head  bowed  like  some 
wild  creature  that  had  got  its  death-wound. 


CHAPTER   IX 

A    REQUIEM     MASS 

GLOOM  lay  on  St.  Gabriel's.  In  the  lit 
tle  chapel  at  the  end  of  the  hall  stood  a 
rude  bier,  and  on  it  lay  the  figure  of 
Father  Mohl,  his  hands  crossed  upon  his  breast. 
Near  the  bier  knelt  Elinor  Calvert,  telling  her 
beads,  but  absently,  as  though  her  thoughts  were 
far  away,  and  on  her  face  such  a  look  of  utter 
and  unspeakable  grief  as  would  have  melted  a 
heart  of  stone.  Her  golden  hair  was  drawn  back 
from  her  pale  forehead,  and  her  lashes  fell  over 
deep  shadowy  circles  which  sorrow  had  traced  on 
her  cheek.  Grief's  pencil  works  swiftly. 

Gusts  of  chill  wind  swept  along  the  uncarpeted 
floor  in  little  eddies,  and  stirred  the  heavy  folds 
of  her  black  dress. 

Not  far  from  her  knelt  Peggy  Neville,  miser 
ably  ill  at  ease  in  a  ceremonial  unfamiliar  and 
unsympathetic.  She  was  too  young  to  throw 
herself  into  the  spirit  of  other  people's  emotions, 
and  found  comfort  only  in  the  society  of  those 
who  threw  themselves  into  hers.  In  spite  of  her 

144 


A  Requiem  Mass 

awe  in  the  presence  of  death,  her  thoughts  would 
wander  ever  and  anon  to  the  scenes  in  the  forest, 
to  Romney's  words,  and,  shame  upon  her !  she 
could  not  for  her  life  help  wondering  if  he  were 
looking  at  her  now,  and  if  her  feet  showed  beneath 
her  dress  as  she  knelt.  And  all  the  while  the 
young  man  saw  her  as  a  vision  of  a  saint  kneeling 
in  the  depth  of  the  shadows. 

From  the  altar  sounded  Father  Whites  voice 
in  the  solemn  rhythmic  cadences  of  the  mass,  and 
the  voices  below  answered  in  their  tremulous 
responses,  — 

Dominus  vobiscum  — 

Et  cum  sfiritu  tuo. 

Benedicamus  Domine  ! 

Deo  gr atlas. 

Fidelium  animte  per  misericordiam  Deiy  requi- 
escant  in  face. 

Amen. 

As  the  candle-light  shone  on  Mary  Brent's  face, 
it  marked  a  curious  change  wrought  by  these  few 
hours.  The  placidity  had  stiffened  into  obstinacy, 
as  a  water-drop  stiffens  into  an  icicle.  The  nos 
trils  were  slightly  pinched,  and  the  lines  which 
bigotry  draws  around  the  mouth  were  already 
denning  themselves  in  dim  outline.  No  one  can 
determine  to  believe  evil  of  another  without 
planting  in  his  own  soul  the  seeds  of  deteriora 
tion.  Mary  Brent  had  no  sooner  said  in  her 
10  145 


Sir  Christopher 

heart,  "  Christopher  Neville  is  a  murderer,'* 
than  she  began  to  desire  his  punishment,  and 
having  banished  him  from  the  circle  of  her  sym 
pathy,  she  was  fain  to  justify  herself  by  seeking, 
and  secretly  wishing  proof  of  his  guilt.  From 
this,  it  was  but  a  step  to  suspicion  of  all  his  acts  ; 
and  after  that  came  uncharitableness,  and  hatred 
cloaking  itself  under  love  of  justice  and  pious 
devotion  to  holy  Church,  which  had  been  thus 
outraged  in  the  person  of  its  priest. 

Already  the  dark  deed  enacted  in  the  forest 
was  working,  not  only  on  the  lives,  but  on  the 
character  of  those  among  whom  it  had  fallen. 

The  men  and  women  here  at  St.  Gabriel's 
were  being  tried  in  the  crucible  of  destiny,  and 
none  could  foresee  which  should  emerge  pure 
gold,  and  which  should  be  utterly  consumed  in 
the  fire. 

Still  the  priest's  voice  sounded  from  the  altar, 
and  the  responsive  chant  rose  and  fell  on  the 
still  air. 

An  awe  such  as  had  never  before  touched  her 
young  life  stole  over  Peggy  Neville  as  she  lis 
tened,  and  crowded  out  the  petty  vanities  which 
had  filled  her  mind  at  first.  As  she  looked  at 
the  bier  and  the  priest's  body  stretched  upon  it, 
she  seemed  to  see  her  own  future  strangely  inter 
twined  by  destiny  with  the  fate  of  this  rigid 
figure.  How  still  it  lay  !  Oh,  if  it  would  only 

146 


A  Requiem  Mass 

move !  The  mass  came  to  an  end.  Dead  silence 
fell,  and  lasted.  -Peggy  felt  that  she  could  bear 
it  no  longer.  She  must  cry  out,  scream,  or  per 
haps  by  one  of  those  strange,  contradictory 
emotions  which  assail  the  human  soul  at  great 
crises,  laugh  aloud  with  wild,  unreal  hilarity. 
At  this  instant  she  felt  a  touch  upon  her  shoulder, 
and  her  brother's  voice  said  in  her  ear,  "  Get 
thy  cloak  and  hood  and  meet  me  outside  the 
door." 

His  voice  sounded  grave  and  ominous. 

With  beating  heart  she  stole  away  from  the 
circle  already  breaking  up  into  whispering  groups, 
and,  having  donned  her  cloak  with  the  scarlet  ber 
ries  still  clinging  to  its  breast,  she  made  her  way 
out  at  a  side  door,  and  walked  hurriedly  down 
the  path  till  she  saw  her  brother  waiting  for  her 
beneath  the  shadow  of  the  snow-laden  trees. 

At  sight  of  him  her  tense  mood  broke  sud 
denly,  and  bursting  into  tears,  she  threw  herself 
into  his  arms. 

"  Oh,  Kit !  Kit !  Tell  me  about  it !  Who  is 
he  ?  What  is  he  to  us  ?  Why  dost  thou  look 
so  white  and  strange  ? " 

Christopher  Neville  swallowed  hard,  and  moved 
his  lips  without  utterance. 

"  My  heart  is  troubled,"  he  said,  speaking  to 
himself  rather  than  Peggy,  and  then  fell  to  re 
peating  the  words  of  the  psalm  :  "  My  friends 


Sir  Christopher 

and  my  neighbors  have  drawn  near  and  stood 
against  me.  And  they  that  were  near  me  stood 
afar  off." 

With  round  eyes  Peggy  watched  him  sadly, 
sure  that  he  was  in  a  fever,  and  wishing  she  had 
brought  her  aunt's  medicaments  of  herbs  and 
sweet  waters  from  St.  Mary's.  "  Come,  Christo 
pher,"  she  said  gently,  "come  into  the  house. 
There  is  naught  amiss  —  thou  art  walking  under 
the  shadow  of  a  bad  dream." 

For  an  instant  he  faced  her  in  silence.  Then 
at  last  his  words  came  out,  swift  and  compelled 
as  if  shot  from  a  cannon. 

"  Little  sister,"  he  said,  "  a  sudden  trouble  has 
fallen  on  my  life,  and  almost  the  saddest  part 
of  it  is  that  it  is  like  to  darken  thine  too.  I 
would  to  God,"  he  cried  with  sudden  bitterness, 
"  I  had  never  brought  thee  over  seas." 

"  Am  I  in  thy  way  ?  " 

"  No  !  no  !  —  rather  art  thou  the  only  comfort 
I  have  to  turn  to." 

"  Then,"  said  Peggy  with  the  characteristic 
stamp  of  her  foot,  "  then  why  say  such  hard 
things  ?  I  am  not  very  old  and  I  am  not  very 
wise  ;  but  I  think  —  I  hope  —  I  can  be  trusted, 
and  I  know  I  love  thee  dearly,  and  would  lay 
down  my  life  to  serve  thee." 

"  Faithful  little  heart  ! "  he  murmured. 

"  But  tell  me,"  she  said,  speaking  softly,  as  one 
148 


A  Requiem  Mass 

does  to  those  in  trouble,  —  "  tell  me  what  is  this 
dark  cloud  which  has  fallen  upon  thee  since  thou 
didst  come  all  smiles  to  lift  me  from  my  saddle 
this  very  day.  Surely  thou  didst  know  of  noth 
ing  then." 

"  No,  a  few  short  hours  since  I  would  have 
refused  to  change  my  lot  with  any  man  in  the 
province,  —  a  few  short  hours,  yet  they  may 
suffice  to  blight  a  life." 

"  For  the  love  of  God,  talk  no  more  in  riddles, 
but  tell  me  plainly,  what  is  it  has  changed  thee 
so  ?  Cheer  up,  dear  heart,  and  do  not  talk  as  if 
thou  didst  stand  accused  of  some  terrible  crime!  " 

"I  do." 

"For  shame  !  't  is  no  time  for  idle  jesting." 

"  Never  were  words  spoke  less  in  lightness. 
If  thou  must  have  plainer  speech,  know  that  I, 
Christopher  Neville,  thy  brother,  stand  accused 
of  murdering  yonder  priest." 

"What  fools  utter  such  imbecile  slander?" 

"Alas,  they  are  no  fools  that  utter,  ay,  and 
believe  it." 

"  Why  not  go  straight  to  Governor  Brent  and 
give  them  the  lie  ?  " 

Neville  staggered  as  if  a  blow  had  struck  him. 

"Peggy  —  " 

"Brother  —  " 

"  //  is  Brent  who  accuses  me  !  " 

At  these    words    Peggy  turned  pale,  but  she 
149 


Sir  Christopher 

never  flinched.  "  Some  villain  has  his  ear,"  she 
cried.  "  Tell  me  who  it  is  ;  I  will  face  him 
down,  —  yes,  I,  girl  though  I  am,  will  show  him 
what  it  is  to  lie  away  the  character,  perhaps  the 
life,  of  the  best  man  in  Maryland." 

"  How  do  you  know  it  is  a  lie  ?  " 

Peggy  Neville  laughed  —  a  nervous,  hysterical 
laugh ;  but  the  sound  was  music  in  her  brother's 
ears.  There  was  one  person,  then,  to  whom  the 
idea  of  his  being  a  murderer  was  impossible  — 
absurd.  He  smiled,  but  he  repeated  the  ques 
tion  ;  "  How  dost  thou  know  it  is  a  lie  ?  " 

"  I  know  it  as  I  know  that  water  runs  down 
hill,  that  fire  burns.  Shall  I  swear  by  these  and 
doubt  the  laws  that  rule  a  soul  ?  " 

Neville  looked  at  his  sister  in  a  sort  of  trance 
of  bewilderment.  Could  this  be  the  little  girl 
he  had  played  with  and  laughed  at  and  teased 
and  loved  as  one  loves  a  pet  and  plaything,  —  this 
pale  young  creature,  with  eyes  aflame  with  right 
eous  wrath,  with  pity  on  her  lips,  and  all  her 
heart  bursting  with  sympathy  and  tenderness? 
Her  brother  took  her  hand  in  his  with  a  feeling 
akin  to  reverence. 

"  You  will  never  know  how  much  you  have 
comforted  me,"  he  said.  "  I  did  not  do  it, 
Peggy.  I  did  not  do  it.  Cherish  that  certainty 
as  a  support  in  the  hard,  dark  days  thou  wilt  be 
called  to  pass  through." 


A  Requiem  Mass 

"  Waste  no  time  in  telling  me  what  I  know 
already  as  well  as  thou.  Let  us  take  counsel 
rather,  while  we  may.  Tell  me  first  what  do 
they  say  ?  What  reason  have  they?  What  have 
they  found,  seen,  imagined?  " 

"  Not  much,  but  enough  ;  they  know  that  I 
followed  Father  Mohl  out  into  the  night  —  that 
he  was  never  seen  after  till  he  was  found  dead  in 
the  wood  yonder." 

"  But  how  couldst  thou  have  joined  in  a  death 
struggle  and  brought  home  no  trace  of  conflict  ?  ' 
"  When  I  came  back  I  was  torn  with  brambles 
and  stained  with  blood  —  of  a  beast,  I  told  them 

but  who  could  know  if  I  spoke  truth  ?  " 

It  was  characteristic  of  Neville  to  see  his  ad 
versary's  case  more  strongly  than  his  own. 

"  This  is  all  but  a  series  of  happenings.  Any 
one  might  have  met  with  the  same  disaster,  and 
come  to  his  death  by  an  arrow  from  the  bow  of 
one  of  the  natives." 

"It  was  no  arrow  that  did  the  deed.  It  was  a 
knife  —  an  English  knife." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad !  now  surely  they  can  trace 
the  murderer." 

Neville  gave  a  deep  groan,  and  leaned  his  head 
upon  his  arm  against  the  tree. 
"  Pe&gy->  Me  knife  was  mine." 
"  Thine !  " 
"  Ay  ;    Governor   Brent  found  it   hid  in   the 


Sir  Christopher 


folds  of  the  priest's  cloak.  He  knew  it  for 
mine.  Canst  thou  wonder  that  he  accuses  me  ? " 

"  Does  —  does  any  one  else  suspect  thee  ?  " 

Neville  said  nothing,  yet  his  sister  was  an 
swered. 

"  Oh,  cruel !  cruel  !  "  she  cried.  "  How  could 
she  know  thee  so  long,  and  credit  any  such  base 
slander  ?  She  is  a  —  " 

"  Hush  !  Not  a  word  of  her.  Whatever  she 
does,  says,  thinks,  is  right  and  forever  beyond 
cavil." 

"  Monstrous  !  "  groaned  his  sister,  "  the  man  is 
so  daft  that  if  this  woman  tells  him  he  has  com 
mitted  murder  he  will  bow  his  head  in  meek 
assent.  Oh,  be  a  man,  be  a  man,  I  pray  thee, 
and  give  her  back  scorn  for  scorn !  " 

"  She  has  shown  me  no  scorn,  —  only  a  sad, 
half-sick  listlessness,  as  though  she  too  had  got 
a  death-wound  at  my  hands.  It  is  that  which 
has  cut  me  to  the  heart  as  no  pride  or  wrath  or 
disdain  had  had  power  to  do." 

Peggy  shivered.  Her  brother  noticed  it. 
"  What  a  brute  I  am,"  he  murmured,  "  to  keep 
thee  standing  here  in  the  cold  night  air.  'Tis 
of  a  piece  with  my  selfishness.  Get  thee  in  and 
know  that  thou  hast  brought  something  like 
comfort  to  the  heart  of  a  sorrow-stricken  man. 
Good-night,  and  God  bless  thee  ! " 

"  I  will  go  in  as  thou  bidst  me,  for  the  night 
152 


A  Requiem  Mass 

air  waxes  cold.  But  thou  —  what  wilt  thou 
do  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know ;  I  have  not  thought.  It 
matters  little." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  matters  very  little  whether  thou 
dost  catch  thy  death  of  cold  !  " 

"  Would  to  God  I  could  !  " 

"  Well,  as  for  that,  it  might  serve  thy  turn,  but 
it  would  be  passing  hard  for  me  ! "  Here  she 
began  to  cry. 

cc  By  Heavens,  thou  dost  speak  truth  !  Listen, 
little  one :  for  thy  sake  I  will  take  care  of  my 
self;  for  thy  sake  I  will  fight  this  thing  to  the 
bitter  end.  And  if  by  any  chance  I  conquer, 
thou  mayst  have  the  joy  of  knowing  that  but  for 
thee  it  never  had  been  done." 

For  the  first  time  a  ring  of  determination,  of 
energy,  of  unconscious  hope  sounded  in  his 
voice. 

"  Now  art  thou  brave  once  more,"  cried  Peggy, 
raising  herself  on  tip-toe  to  look  into  his  eyes, 
which  shone  like  cut  steel  in  the  moonlight. 
"Never  fear  but  all  shall  come  right  yet!" 

As  she  tore  herself  away  and  hurried  up  the 
steps,  she  saw  with  amazement  that  Ralph  Ingle 
was  pacing  up  and  down  the  cleared  space  before 
the  door  of  the  manor-house. 

Stranger  still,  he  carried  a  gun. 

He  saluted  gravely  as  Peggy  drew  near,  and 


Sir  Christopher 

would  fain  have  passed  on,  but  she  stopped 
before  him. 

"  Wherefore  abroad  so  early  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  By  order  of  Governor  Brent,"  he  answered. 

The  words  struck  a  chill  to  her  soul.  So 
Christopher,  her  brother  Christopher,  the  idol 
of  her  childhood,  the  revered  hero  of  her  girlish 
dreams,  was  being  watched^  like  a  criminal!  A 
quick  flame  of  rage  rose  in  her  heart,  and  drove 
back  the  numbness  of  despair.  "  How  dare 
they  ?  "  she  whispered  to  herself;  but  she  hid 
her  thoughts,  and  spoke  no  word  further. 

As  she  passed  through  the  hall  to  reach  her 
chamber,  she  saw  Elinor  still  kneeling  in  the 
chapel,  and  the  hot  anger  rose  in  her  stronger 
than  ever.  Was  this  the  pattern  of  perfection 
she  had  wasted  so  many  thoughts  upon,  —  this 
woman  whose  faith  broke  at  the  first  trial  ? 

Oh,  paltry  faith  !   Oh,  travesty  on  confidence  ! 

At  the  foot  of  the  stair  Giles  Brent  and  his 
sister  Margaret  stood  in  low-toned  conversation. 
As  Peggy  drew  near,  Giles  started  and  moved 
aside  a  little,  but  Margaret  stretched  out  a  warm, 
comforting  hand. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you  !  "  sobbed  Peggy, 
as  breaking  away  she  rushed  up  stairs. 

"  Poor  child,  she  hath  a  heavy  load  to  bear !  " 
said  Brent,  looking  after  her. 

"  Giles,  thou  art  a  fool !  " 


A  Requiem  Mass 

A  moment  ago  Brent  had  been  ready  to  take 
his  sister  into  his  confidence ;  but  her  frank 
speech  angered  him.  Her  great  mistake  lay  in 
answering  appeals  for  sympathy  with  advice. 

"  Margaret,  thou  art  too  prone  to  think  that 
wisdom  will  die  with  thee.  It  is  time  thou  didst 
take  to  heart  the  fact  that  I  am  Governor  of  this 
province,  and  responsible  to  God  and  Calvert 
alone  for  my  ruling." 

"  The  more  the  pity  that  so  great  a  trust  is 
fallen  to  so  little  sense." 

"  Thou  hast  a  shrewd  tongue,  Margaret,  and 
I  have  felt  its  lash  often ;  but  I  think  thou 
mightst  spare  it  to-day.  Surely,  I  have  enough 
to  try  me." 

"Ay,  without  conjuring  up  new  troubles  of 
thine  own  imagining." 

"  'T  is  easy  said,  but  hath  little  meaning.  Is 
the  murder  of  yonder  priest  of  my  own  im 
agining  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Is  Neville's  knife  falling  from  his  garments 
my  own  imagining?" 

"  No." 

"  Then  where  comes  in  the  point  of  thy  words  ? " 

"  I  mean  that  thou  hast  walked  as  fast  to  meet 
this  trouble  as  thou  shouldst  have  walked  away 
from  it.  Was  any  with  thee  when  thou  didst 
find  the  knife  ?  " 


Sir  Christopher 

cc  No,  't  was  between  the  going  of  Huntoon 
and  the  coming  of  the  others." 

"  And  didst  show  it  to  Neale  or  Cornwaleys  ?  " 

"  No  —  I  was  half  stunned  and  walked  on  in 
silence ;  but  when  Neville  came  to  meet  me  I  was 
maddened  by  his  impudent  boldness,  and  I 
charged  him  with  the  crime  then  and  there/' 

"Were  you  two  alone?  " 

"  Ay,  but  for  Ralph  Ingle  and  Elinor." 

"  But  for  them  !  As  well  tell  a  secret  to  two 
hundred  as  to  two.  No  flies  get  through  a  shut 
door  ;  but  once  open,  it  may  as  well  be  kept  so, 
and  let  them  in  and  out  at  will.  Therefore,  as  I 
said  at  the  beginning,  thou  art  a  fool." 

"  Thinkst  thou  I  would  defeat  justice,  and 
make  myself  sharer  in  such  a  guilty  secret  as 
that?"  ' 

"  I  think  thou  art  first  of  all  Governor  of 
this  province,  wherein  the  chief  danger  lies  in  the 
hatred  that  Catholic  and  Protestant  have  for 
each  other.  Now,  once  't  is  known,  —  nay,  sus 
pected,  since  for  my  single  self  I  believe  it  not, 
though  I  own  the  proof  is  strong,  —  but  once,  as 
I  say,  let  it  be  suspected  that  a  Protestant  hath 
murdered  a  Catholic,  and  then  all  the  dogs  of 
war  are  loosed  at  once.  How  can  it  be  that  thou 
who  hadst  the  wit  to  deal  with  Ingle  shouldst  so 
have  lost  thy  head  here  ?  " 

Brent  was  irritated  by  the  explicitness  of  his 
156 


A  Requiem  Mass 

sister's  explanation,  as  a  deaf  person  is  irritated 
by  a  tone  a  shade  louder  than  necessary.  Really, 
he  could  take  in  her  meaning  without  having  it 
lined  out  to  him  as  if  he  were  a  schoolboy. 

"  Margaret,  I  have  heard  thee  through  because 
thou  art  my  sister,  and  because  thou  hast  in  times 
past  been  a  faithful  counsellor  ;  but  in  this  I  will 
be  my  own  master,  and  I  am  in  no  humor  to  sub 
mit  to  orders  from  thee.  Therefore  say  no  more." 

"  So  be  it,  then,  Brother !  Thy  folly  be  on 
thine  own  head  ;  but  bear  in  mind  that  folly  oft- 
times  claims  a  more  usurious  interest  than  sin. 
I  go  back  to  Kent  Fort  at  daylight,  and  shall  do 
my  best  to  quell  the  rising  discontent;  but  I 
know  not  what  will  follow  the  news  of  the  arrest 
of  a  Protestant,  especially  of  such  a  Protestant, 
—  a  man  like  Christopher  Neville,  loved  and 
trusted  of  all  men." 

"There,  Margaret,  thou  hast  turned  the  knife 
in  the  wound  as  thou  hast  a  trick  of  doing.  This 
is  the  very  root  of  bitterness  in  my  heart.  I  too 
loved  and  trusted  this  man,  and  he  hath  betrayed 
me.  He  deceived  me  about  Elinor,  whom  it 
seems  he  hath  known  and  loved  for  years  back. 
He  deceived  me  about  his  wealth,  letting  me  be 
lieve  he  had  need  to  work  at  Cecil  Point,  when 
in  truth  he  has  lands  of  value  in  England.  And 
now  worst  of  all  he  has  betrayed  my  hospitality 
by  this  unpardonable  villainy." 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Enough  of  this,  Giles  !  It  is  useless  for  thee 
and  me  to  argue  this  matter,  wherein  we  cannot 
see  alike.  Only  do  not  thou  deceive  thyself  with 
talk  of  statecraft  or  public  duty ;  these  may  be 
in  thy  mind,  but  there  is  somewhat  under  them, 
—  thou  art  jealous  —  " 

Giles  Brent  started  as  if  a  lash  had  struck  him. 

«/_  jealous!' 

"  Yes,  Giles,  the  love  of  long  ago  still  lives  in 
thy  memory." 

"  And  what  harm  if  it  do  ?  " 

"  No  harm  save  as  it  drives  thee  to  injustice. 
Beware !  and  trust  not  thy  judgment  when  thy 
heart  holds  the  balance." 

"  Good-bye ! "  said  Giles  Brent,  and  turned 
upon  his  heel. 


'58 


CHAPTER   X 

THE    ORDEAL    BY    TOUCH 

THE  second  day  after  the  murder  had 
come,  and  still  Father  Mohl's  body- 
lay  in  the  centre  of  the  great  hall,  the 
inscrutable  smile  still  on  his  lips,  the  fringe  of 
hair  streaked  over  the  high,  pale  forehead.  The 
candles  at  his  head  and  feet  guttered  and  dripped 
in  their  sockets  and  opposed  their  yellow  flame  to 
the  grayness  of  the  January  day  which  seemed  to 
be  peering  in  curiously  at  the  scene  in  the  hall, 
where  all  the  household  of  St.  Gabriel's  were 
gathered  to  watch  the  final  test  of  Christopher 
Neville's  guilt  or  innocence. 

The  dwellers  by  Chesapeake  Bay  two  hundred 
and  fifty  years  ago  had  not  banished  the  influ 
ence  of  the  supernatural  from  the  conduct  of  life 
in  public  or  private  affairs.  If  their  easy  tolera 
tion  prevented  their  taking  satisfaction  in  the 
witch-burning  practised  by  their  contemporaries 
in  Massachusetts,  they  yet  found  nothing  incred 
ible  in  witchcraft,  for  they  too  saw  ghosts  and 
felt  the  malign  influence  of  the  evil  eye. 


Sir  Christopher 

To  such  a  generation  it  was  quite  natural  that 
a  murderer  should  be  arraigned  before  the  dead 
as  well  as  the  living. 

"  If  the  vile  actors  of  the  heinous  deed 
Near  the  dead  body  happily  be  brought, 
Oft  hath  't  been  proved  the  breathless  corpse  will  bleed/' 

It  was  a  test  based  half  on  superstition,  half 
on  deep  knowledge  of  human  nature ;  for  how 
indeed  could  a  murderer,  brought  face  to  face 
with  the  still  accusation  in  his  victim's  rigid  form, 
fail  to  betray  himself  before  the  hostile  or  coldly 
neutral  eyes  of  the  witnesses.  And  as  for  the 
corpse  showing  signs  of  recognition  of  the  assas 
sin,  why,  there  were  so  many  ready  to  swear  that 
they  had  known  that  to  happen  that  it  would  have 
been  flat  scepticism  to  doubt  it. 

So  the  household  of  St.  Gabriel's  waited  for 
Neville  and  his  guard  to  enter  the  room,  a  deep 
silence  hanging  over  all. 

Giles  Brent,  from  his  end  of  the  long  table,  sat 
gazing  at  his  sister,  and  thinking  how  strangely 
her  smooth,  round  face  and  domestic  bearing 
contrasted  with  the  grim  scene  around  her.  It 
was  as  if  some  brown  thrush  had  been  caught  up 
from  its  nest  in  the  bushes  by  the  wind  of  destiny, 
and  suddenly  enveloped  in  the  black  cloud  of  a 
tornado. 

Mary  Brent  kept  her  eyes  steadily  fixed  upon 
160 


The  Ordeal  by  Touch 

the  portrait  of  Lord  Baltimore,  painted  by  Van 
Dyck,  and  hanging  on  the  wall  on  the  turn  of 
the  stairs. 

She  studied  every  detail  of  his  costume,  —  the 
small  clothes  of  blue  velvet,  coat  embroidered  in 
gold,  and  doublet  embroidered  in  silver,  the  open 
sleeves  with  their  azure  lining,  the  breastplate  of 
blue  inlaid  with  gold,  and  the  sword-hilt  studded 
with  jewels,  the  powdered  wig  that  topped  the 
whole,  and  the  cocked  hat,  its  flap  looped  and 
held  back  with  brilliants,  which  shone  bright 
as  real  gems. 

These  seemed  real  while  the  figures  around 
her  receded  from  her  sight  dim  and  blurred, 
wavering  like  figures  in  a  dream.  There  was 
Mistress  Calvert  on  the  settle  below  the  bend  of 
the  stairs.  Was  she  really  Elinor  Calvert,  or  a 
corpse  like  the  one  which  lay  scarcely  more 
white  in  the  middle  of  the  room  ? 

Elinor  herself  was  almost  as  doubtful  as  her 
cousin  whether  she  really  lived  and  breathed.  It 
seemed  rather  as  though  she  had  already  tasted 
the  bitterness  of  death,  and  now  moved  about,  a 
pale,  miserable  ghost  in  a  land  where  all  was 
ghastly  and  miserable.  Even  Cecil  seemed  un 
real,  and  that  worried  her  more  than  all  the  rest. 
In  the  last  three  days  the  touch  of  those  little 
arms  had  in  some  way  lost  its  power  to  comfort, 
and  the  childish  presence  had  grown  irksome 
ii  161 


Sir  Christopher 

because  it  forbade  her  giving  way  to  the  bursts 
of  wild  weeping  which  had  alternated  with  stony 
despair. 

Just  now  Cecil  was  pressing  close  to  her  side 
and  whispering  in  her  ear,  — 

"  Mamma,  did  Thir  Chrithtopher  Neville  kill 
the  priest?  Dost  thou  think  he  did  it  ?  " 

"  Hush,  Cecil !  " 

"But  did  he  ?" 

cc  I  know  not." 

"  Father  White  thinks  he  did  it." 

Silence  on  Elinor's  part. 

"  And  Couthin  Giles  thinks  so." 

Still  silence. 

"  And    Couthin    Mary   thinks  so ;    but   I   do 

» 
not. 

"And  why?" 

"  Because  he  promised  me  a  bow  and  arrowth 
and  he  knew  thou  wouldst  not  let  me  take  a 
gift  from  a  murderer." 

The  quick  stab  of  the  word  was  intolerable. 
Elinor  thrust  the  child  away  from  her  side 
with  a  swift,  tragic  gesture ;  then,  at  sight  of  the 
angry  flush  in  his  cheeks  and  the  grieved  wonder 
in  his  eyes,  she  caught  him  to  her  heart  again 
close,  and  bowed  her  head  over  his  curls. 

The  only  person  who  caught  the  meaning  of 
the  action  was  Peggy  Neville,  who  sat  in  a  corner 
a  little  back  of  the  Governor's  chair.  Heart 

162 


The  Ordeal  by  Touch 

reads  heart  in  crises  like  these,  and  sympathy  is 
second  sight.  Her  first  feeling  was  a  quick 
thrill  and  a  desire  to  run  across  the  room  and 
kiss  that  cold  proud  face  with  the  swollen  eye 
lids.  Then  the  blood  of  the  Nevilles,  proud 
every  whit  as  that  of  the  Calverts,  surged  angrily 
back  to  her  heart.  "  She  to  dare  to  doubt  him  ! 
Why,  nobody  thinks  great  things  of  me,  but  I 
would  never  desert  any  one  that  I  cared  even  the 
least  little  bit  about.  I  'd  stick  all  the  closer 
when  people  turned  against  him,  and  as  for 
evidence,  what  is  the  use  of  being  a  woman  if 
you  are  going  to  be  influenced  by  such  things  as 
that !  " 

Oh,  little  Peggy  !  women  do  not  own  the  only 
minds  superior  to  evidence.  From  across  the 
hall  a  young  man  is  watching  every  expression 
of  your  face,  feeling  sure  that  your  brother  is 
innocent  because  you  think  him  so — confident 
that  Governor  Brent  is  a  cold,  hard  man,  eager  to 
believe  evil  of  a  friend,  and  vowing  that  as  for 
him,  Romney  Huntoon,  his  sword,  his  honor, 
his  life  itself  are  at  the  service  of  Christopher 
Neville,  with  whom  he  has  scarcely  spoken,  and 
of  Christopher's  sister  Peggy  whom  he  has  known 
for  a  matter  of  ten  days. 

A  silence  deeper  than  before  falls  on  the  com 
pany  as  the  tramp  of  feet  is  heard  at  the  door 
and  Neville  enters  between  two  guards.  The 

163 


Sir  Christopher 

Coroner's  inquest  is  formed  after  the  fashion  of 
the  day,  Giles  Brent  as  Chief-Justice  and  Chief 
Coroner  of  the  province,  under  that  charter  which 
in  Maryland  invested  the  governor  with  the 
regia  potestas,  on  the  platform  at  the  end  of  the 
hall. 

Associated  with  him  by  courtesy  is  the  lady 
of  the  manor,  while  on  either  side  are  ranged 
Councillors  Neale  and  Cornwaleys.  All  face  the 
central  figure  stretched  rigid  on  the  bier  in  the 
middle  of  the  hall,  and  as  the  prisoner  walks 
the  length  of  the  room  that  lies  between  him 
and  the  bier,  all  eyes  are  fixed  upon  him.  To 
each  person  present  his  bearing  denotes  a  differ 
ent  thing.  It  is  not  beauty  alone  that  is  in  the 
eye  of  the  gazer. 

To  Peggy  Neville  that  bearing  speaks  lofty 
consciousness  of  innocence. 

To  Mary  Brent  it  swaggers  with  the  effrontery 
of  brazen  guilt. 

To  Giles  Brent  the  face  is  an  impenetrable 
mask. 

To  Elinor  Calvert — but  how  describe  the 
emotions  that  surge  through  her  soul,  each 
obliterating  the  former  like  waves  on  a  beach 
of  sand  ! 

Her  first  feeling,  as  she  watched  Neville  stride 
up  the  room,  was  a  thrill  of  pride  in  his  imperious 
personality  as  he  towered  taller  by  a  head  than  his 

164 


The  Ordeal  by  Touch 

guard,  and  in  his  bearing  outranking  all  present 
in  courtliness. 

Then  came  a  longing  to  speak  out  before  them 
all  and  claim  him  for  her  true  love ;  then,  as  her 
glance  travelled  upward  to  that  pale  set  face,  the 
deadly  chill  of  doubt  and  distrust  struck  cold 
upon  her  heart,  and  she  bowed  her  head  upon  her 
hands. 

When  she  awoke  to  consciousness  of  what  was 
passing  around  she  heard  the  voice  of  Giles  Brent 
saying,  — 

"  That  all  here  present  may  understand  the 
business  which  is  going  forward,  let  me  first 
set  forth  my  duties  under  the  law.  c  A  coroner 
of  our  lord  the  King,'  says  the  statute,  c  shall  go 
to  the  places  where  any  be  slain,  and  shall  sum 
mon  the  honest  men  of  the  neighborhood,  and  of 
them  shall  inquire  what  they  know  touching  the 
death ;  and  if  any  person  is  said  to  be  guilty  of 
the  murder  he  shall  be  brought  before  the 
coroner  and  his  inquest,  and  shall  be  put  upon 
his  defence  that  he  may,  if  he  can,  purge  himself 
of  the  charge/  ' 

"  Oh,  dear,  how  Giles  doth  love  form !  I  believe 
he  would  see  us  all  hung  if  he  might  pronounce 
sentence  in  Latin."  Elinor's  foot  kept  time  to 
her  angry  thoughts,  and  that  so  loud  that  it 
caught  Brent's  ear  and  brought  a  frown  to  his 
brow. 


Sir  Christopher 


"  Christopher  Neville,  you  stand  accused  of  a 
dastardly  crime,  —  the  murder  of  Andrew  Mohl, 
a  priest  of  the  Jesuit  order,  who  lies  here  before 
us,  and  who  is  known  to  have  come  to  his  death 
on  the  night  of  January  twentieth." 

"Who  are  mine  accusers?" 

Brent  turned  and  whispered  first  to  Neale  and 
Cornwaleys,  then  to  his  sister,  and  finally,  turning 
again  toward  the  prisoner,  he  said,  — 

"'Twill  serve  no  good  turn  to  press  that 
question." 

"  I  stand  upon  my  rights." 

"  Is  it  not  enough  that  there  be  a  dozen  here 
who  are  convinced  of  thy  guilt  ?  " 

"  I  stand  upon  my  rights.  I  will  have  the 
name." 

"Then,  since  thou  dost  demand  the  name 
of  him  who  lodged  the  charge,  'tis  that  of 
Father  Fisher,  come  hither  to-day  from  St. 
Mary's." 

"  Father  Fisher?  The  head  of  the  Jesuit  col 
ony  at  St.  Inigo's  ?  " 

"  Ay ;  yet  he  makes  his  charge  not  as  a  priest, 
but  a  citizen." 

"  No  doubt." 

"  Sneers,  sir,  will  not  help  your  case,  with  which 
we  will  now  go  on.  What  plea  are  you  fain  to 
enter,  c  guilty  '  or  (  not  guilty  '?  " 

"Not  guilty." 

166 


The  Ordeal  by  Touch 

"  Master  Neale,  kindly  act  as  secretary  and 
record  the  plea.  Sir  Christopher,  will  you  hear 
the  evidence  against  you?" 

"  I  will." 

"  On  any  disputed  point  you  shall  confront 
witnesses  ;  but  that  we  may  not  waste  time,  let  us 
settle  first  that  whereon  we  agree.  First,  you  are 
a  Protestant." 

Neville  bowed  assent. 

"  Second,  here  in  this  house  you  did  quarrel 
with  the  dead  priest  touching  matters  of  faith  and 
doctrine." 

"  We  had  words,  certainly." 

"  And  angry  words,  as  I  am  told." 

cc  I  was  angry.      Belike  he  was  angry,  too." 

"  He  admits  that  he  was  angered.  Put  that 
down,"  whispered  Mary  Brent  to  Neale. 

"  Tell  us  what  happened  after  your  talk  with 
Father  Mohl." 

"  He  rose  and  started  to  walk  to  St.  Mary's." 

"And  what  did  you  then?" 

"  I  followed  him." 

"  For  what  purpose?  " 

"  To  beg  his  pardon." 

"  Ah  !  Now  we  have  it.  You  felt  you  had 
done  him  wrong." 

"  I  did  not." 

"Then  why  ask  his  pardon?" 

"  Because  I  had  wounded  other  hearts  than  his, 


Sir  Christopher 

and,  moreover,  I  had  offended  against  Mistress 
Brent's  hospitality." 

Mary  Brent's  lips  drew  themselves  into  a  tight, 
straight  line. 

"  Now,  Sir  Christopher,  will  you  tell  the  court 
something  we  are  most  urgent  to  know, —  did 
you,  or  did  you  not,  return  from  that  search  agi 
tated  and  distraught  in  bearing,  with  garments 
torn  and  stained  with  blood  ?" 

"I  did." 

There  was  an  ominous  pause,  during  which  one 
could  well  nigh  count  heart-beats. 

"  Christopher  Neville,  do  you  know  this 
knife  ?  " 

"  Yea ;  't  is  mine  own." 

"  Ay,  and  found  in  the  folds  of  the  priest's  gar 
ments,  and  fitting  with  fatal  exactness  the  wound 
in  the  breast.  Now,  one  more  question :  when 
you  came  in  that  night  did  you,  or  did  you 
not,  crave  blessing  and  absolution  from  Father 
White  ?  " 

"  No  —  not  absolution  !  " 

"  A  mere  quibble  !  You  confessed  to  him  that 
you  had  sinned,  and  you  begged  his  blessing. 
Not  one  of  these  points  do  you  deny;  and,  indeed, 
denial  were  worse  than  useless,  for,  as  you  well 
know,  I  have  witnesses  enough  at  hand  to  prove 
them  all.  The  explanations  in  your  written 
statement,  which  lies  before  me  and  which  I  have 

168 


The  Ordeal  by  Touch 

examined,  your  silly  tales  of  the  wild  animal,  the 
brush  and  briar,  do  credit  neither  to  your  mind 
nor  your  conscience.  Rather  I  beg  of  you  while 
there  is  yet  time  make  a  clean  breast  of  it  here 
before  God,  before  me,  and  before  this  assembled 
household  of  St.  Gabriel's."  Here  Brent's  voice 
took  a  tone  almost  of  pleading,  strangely  at  vari 
ance  with  his  magisterial  manner  at  the  beginning. 

"  We  all  know,"  he  went  on,  "  that  the  priest 
had  the  cause  of  the  Church  so  much  at  heart 
that  he  might  have  been  tempted  to  use  words  to 
a  heretic  hard  for  hot  blood  to  brook.  Tell  us 
all  that  happened,  and  there  may  be  circumstances 
making  for  leniency  if  not  for  justification." 

"  I  did  not  kill  the  priest." 

The  dulness  of  the  speaker's  tone  might  be 
the  result  of  the  reaction  from  strong  excitement, 
or  the  apathy  of  guilt.  It  angered  Brent. 

"Neville,  I  would  like  to  stand  your  friend; 
but  the  Governor  of  the  Palatinate  of  Maryland 
declines  to  be  a  compounder  of  felony.  I  ask 
once  more,  have  you  any  confession  to  make  ?  " 

"None." 

"  Gentlemen,  are  you  ready  for  the  test  ? " 

Councillor  Neale  and  Cornwaleys  bowed  assent. 

"  Mistress  Brent,  do  you,  as  lady  of  the  manor, 
approve  the  aforesaid  test  that  Christopher  Nev 
ille  be  commanded  to  lay  his  hand  upon  the 
breast  of  Father  Mohl  yonder  and  take  oath  be- 

169 


Sir  Christopher 

fore  God  that  he   knoweth  naught  of  how  the 
dead  man   came   by  his   death  ?  " 

"I  approve  it,"  said  Mary  Brent,  rising  in  her 
place,  "  and  I  do  command  all  those  here  present 
to  draw  near  the  bier  and  keep  watch  upon  the 
face  of  the  dead  while  the  oath  proceeds." 

Slowly  and  solemnly  the  assembled  household 
drew  together  in  a  circle  about  the  corpse.  Nev 
ille  placed  his  right  hand  upon  the  breast  of  the 
dead  man.  For  an  instant  he  stood  silent  so, 
then  raising  the  hand  to  heaven  he  said  slowly, 
calmly,  distinctly  :  "  I  swear  to  God  I  am  inno 
cent  of  this  man's  death,  and  I  know  naught 
touching  it." 

Why  did  all  present  suddenly  shrink  back  as 
if  a  leper  stood  among  them?  The  dead  priest 
lay  rigid  as  ever,  the  folded  hands  had  not  stirred, 
the  inscrutable  smile  had  not  wavered  on  the  lips 
or  given  any  hint  of  its  meaning.  Surely  there 
was  no  accusation  in  those  still  eyelids.  Neville 
himself  looked  round  in  some  bewilderment,  till 
he  caught  his  sister's  murmur  of  horror,  — 

"  Kit !  oh,  Kit !  —YOUR  HAND  !  " 

Yes,  as  he  turned  it  he  saw  for  himself,  a  drop 
or  two  of  blood  trickling  from  a  tiny  wound  in 
the  palm,  made  by  a  rough  place  on  the  crucifix 
as  he  drew  his  hand  from  the  corpse.  A  scratch 
so  slight  that  it  yielded  no  sensation  to  one  in  his 
tense,  nervous  state. 

170 


The  Ordeal  by  Touch 

"Ay,"  he  said  coolly,  but  bitterly  enough, 
"  that  ends  it,  I  reckon.  Such  testimony  as  that 
closes  the  case  against  me;  yet,  before  God — " 

"  Hush  !  no  more  blasphemy  !"  It  was  Giles 
Brent's  voice  that  spoke,  and  all  echo  of  friendli 
ness  was  gone  out  of  it.  "Guards,  remove  your 
prisoner  to  the  tobacco-house  and  keep  him  close. 
Gentlemen,  the  inquest  is  ended." 


171 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  GREATER  LOVE 

THE  guards  turned,  one  holding  Neville 
by  the  wrist,  the  other  marching  behind, 
and  thus  he  walked  down  the  hall  be 
tween  the  rows  of  unfriendly  faces.     As  he  passed 
Elinor  she  looked  up  timidly,  but  met  a  glance 
of  freezing  contempt. 

So  she  read  the  language  of  his  eyes,  and  he 
knew  not  that  they  spoke  any  such  thing. 
Instead  he  had  but  a  vague  consciousness  that 
among  the  dull  ranks  of  meaningless  faces  his 
eyes  suddenly  fell  upon  a  glory,  a  brilliancy  of 
sunny  tresses  straying  over  cheeks  of  a  luminous 
pallor. 

That  was  Elinor  Calvert.  Oh,  yes  !  he  knew 
that  very  well.  Who  else  had  that  bearing,  with 
its  strange  blending  of  a  dignity  too  unconscious 
to  be  majestic,  with  a  simplicity  too  dignified  to 
be  wholly  simple  ?  And  those  purple  eyes, 
why  were  they  so  sad  ?  Ah,  because  he  was 
guilty.  He  had  forgotten  that;  but  Giles  Brent 
had  said  so,  and  all  these  hostile  faces  confirmed 

172 


The  Greater  Love 

the  verdict.  At  any  rate,  since  she  thought  so, 
it  mattered  little  whether  the  verdict  were  true  or 
false. 

Suddenly  there  came  to  him  a  vision  of  a  new 
circle  in  the  Inferno,  a  circle  where  one  forever 
questioned  the  eyes  he  loved  and  dared  not  read 
the  answer  written  therein. 

"  My  son,  harden  not  thine  heart ;  but  rather 
submit  thyself  in  penitence  and  humility  to  the 
sentence  of  justice." 

It  was  Father  White  who  spoke.  The  words 
brought  Neville  back  to  the  present  with  a  shock. 
He  shook  off  the  kind  priest's  hand  rudely. 

"Judgment,  not  justice!"  he  answered,  with 
haughtiness,  and  moved  on  with  a  smile  on  his 
face.  Pride  is  the  fox  that  the  Spartan  carries 
under  his  cloak,  smiling  while  it  eats  his  heart. 

Father  White  drew  back,  but  so  full  was  Nev 
ille's  mind  that  he  noted  not  the  movement, 
nor  indeed  aught  else,  till  he  was  aware  of  a  yel 
low  head  at  his  elbow  and  a  pair  of  short  legs 
striding  to  keep  the  pace  with  his  own  long  ones. 

Cecil  had  crept  from  his  mother's  side,  and 
joining  Neville  was  now  seeking  to  slip  his  little 
hand  into  the  close-clenched  one  beside  him. 

"  1  've  brought  thomething  for  you,"  he  whis 
pered,  putting  his  other  hand  to  the  breast  of  his 
jerkin  as  they  came  to  the  door. 

Neville  answered  by  a -dreary  smile. 


Sir  Christopher 

"  It 's  a  knife  to  take  the  place  of  the  one  you 
lost." 

The  guard  shook  his  head  reprovingly. 

"No  knives  for  prisoners,  Cecil,"  said  Neville. 

"  Well,  you  shall  have  thomething,  because  you 
are  my  friend.  I  mean  that  you  shall  be  my  ten 
ant  at  Robin  Hood's  Barn  yet,  and  I  don't  think 
you  killed  the  priest.  Mother  does;  but  men 
must  think  for  themselves." 

Neville  bit  his  lip  till  the  blood  came. 

"  See,"  said  Cecil,  "  here  is  a  picture  of 
Mother  done  on  ivory.  She  gave  it  to  me  the 
morning  I  was  lord  of  the  manor.  I  asked 
if  I  could  give  it  to  you.  She  smiled  and  said 
it  would  be  time  enough  to  think  of  that  when 
you  asked  for  it,  and  I  promised  never  to  offer 
it  to  you  till  you  did ;  but  it  ith  a  pretty  pic 
ture,  and  you  would  like  it  to  look  at  in  the 
tobacco-house,  and  you  could  sell  it  for  bread  if 
you  escape  "  —  this  in  a  lower  whisper.  "  Now, 
do  you  ask  for  it  ? " 

Neville  grew  white  to  the  lips.  He  looked  at 
the  picture  as  a  starving  man  looks  at  bread. 
After  an  instant's  hesitation  he  shut  his  teeth  and 
drew  himself  up. 

"  No  !  "  he  cried. 

Then  wrenching  his  wrist  from  the  jailer's 
clasp,  he  lifted  Cecil  in  his  arms,  kissed  him,  and 
set  him  down  again. 


The  Greater  Love 

"  But  I  do  thank  thee  from  the  bottom  of  a 
sad  heart,"  he  said,  and  added,  "  God  bless  thee 
and  reward  thee  !  " 

Inside  the  hall,  with  the  dignity  and  formality 
of  which  neither  fewness  of  numbers  nor  bareness 
of  surroundings  could  rob  our  forefathers,  the 
court  filed  down  the  room,  Mistress  Brent  on  her 
brother's  arm. 

"  Now,  Giles,"  said  his  sister,  "  art  thou  satis 
fied  at  last  who  is  the  guilty  man  ?  " 

"  I  fear  there  can  be  no  doubt." 

cc  I  should  say  not,  indeed.  Even  Margaret 
must  needs  give  over  her  hot  defence  and  admit 
that  the  voice  of  the  Lord  hath  spoken." 

"  I  wish  it  would  tell  me  what  were  good  to 
do." 

"  It  does,  Giles.  It  says,  c  Be  firm  !  Let  not 
ill-timed  tenderness  protect  the  criminal  !  Blood 
guiltiness  must  be  wiped  out  in  blood/  ' 

"  That  is  not  a  gospel  of  love,  Mary." 

"'Tis  the  gospel  of  justice.  I  feel  a  sense  of 
guilt  in  myself  that  Holy  Church  hath  suffered 
such  outrage  in  the  bosom  of  my  household,  and 
this  guilt  can  only  be  purged  away  when  we  with 
draw  fellowship  and  sympathy  from  the  evil-doer 
and  deliver  him  up  to  justice.  To-morrow, 
Giles,  thou  must  go  to  St.  Mary's  and — " 

"  Softly,  Mary  !  In  this  matter  we  must  move 
slowly  and  with  caution." 

'75 


Sir  Christopher 

"Thy  friendship  for  this  man  makes  thee  weak." 

"  Come,  come,  Mary  !  "  said  her  brother,  test 
ily  ;  "'tis  time  we  discovered  whether  this  prov 
ince  is  to  be  ruled  by  men  or  women.  Elinor 
calls  me  hard  of  heart  for  persecuting  Christopher 
Neville ;  Margaret  calls  me  a  fool  for  suspecting 
him ;  now  you  will  have  me  a  weakling  for  not 
hanging  him  out  of  hand.  I  tell  thee  I  will  have 
no  more  meddling  in  this  case ;  when  I  see  my 
duty  clear  before  me,  I  will  do  it.  Till  then  I 
bid  thee  hold  thy  peace." 

Brent's  last  words  were  overheard  by  the  worthy 
Masters  Neale  and  Cornwaleys,  who  followed  close 
after  them. 

"  The  Governor  is  nigh  distraught  over  this 
wretched  business,"  said  Neale,  meditatively 
stroking  the  tuft  on  his  chin. 

"  And  well  he  may  be,"  replied  Cornwaleys. 
"It  needs  but  a  small  torch  to  light  such  a  flame 
of  religious  dissension  here  in  Maryland  as  a 
century  shall  not  suffice  to  extinguish." 

"  Yet  you  would  not  have  the  guilty  escape  ?  " 

"Why  not  Neville  as  well  as  Ingle?  Better 
that  than  set  the  province  afire.  Besides,  so  many 
innocent  must  needs  suffer  with  the  guilty.  Look 
at  that  little  sister  of  Neville's  !  Yesterday  she 
was  gay  as  a  lark ;  to-day  she  can  scarce  lift  her 
swollen  eyelids.  Poor  child  !  I  would  I  could 
help  her." 

176 


The  Greater  Love 

Another  man  in  the  hall  shared  the  wish  of 
Captain  Cornwaleys.  As  Peggy  passed  Huntoon 
she  felt  her  hand  grasped,  and  held  in  a  strong, 
heartening  clasp.  "  Courage  !  "  Romney  whis 
pered.  "  We  are  not  yet  at  the  end.  Much 
may  still  come  to  pass  in  our  favor."  Peggy's 
heart  rose  at  the  word  "  our." 

"  But  the  blood,"  she  murmured.  "  I  believe 
it  was  the  priest's  revenge  for  the  quarrel  he  had 
with  Kit."  The  girl  shared  the  superstition  of 
the  age,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  some  super 
natural  and  malign  agency  was  working  against 
Christopher. 

"  Nay,"  answered  Romney,  "  else  how  account 
for  this  ?  "  and  he  held  up  his  own  hand  scarred 
from  joint  to  the  joining  of  the  wrist.  "  'T  was 
from  the  same  edge  of  the  crucifix  I  got  the 
scratch  as  I  watched  by  the  corpse  last  night,  and 
leaned  over  to  set  the  candles  at  the  head 
straighter  in  their  sockets.  No,  no,  Peggy  !  it 
will  not  do  to  lose  heart  now.  We  must  think 
of  nothing  but  how  we  can  help  your  brother,  — 
clear  him  if  we  can  ;  save  him  if  we  cannot  clear 
him." 

The  contagion  of  hopefulness  spread  to  Peggy's 
sorrowing  little  soul,  and  with  it  came  a  blessed 
sense  of  having  a  firm  support  at  hand  to  lean 
upon,  let  the  winds  of  adversity  blow  as  they 
would.  The  firm  arm  and  brave  heart  and  ready, 
12  i77 


Sir  Christopher 

resourceful  wit  were  all  hers  for  the  asking ;  nay, 
were  themselves  pleading  with  her  to  be  allowed 
to  spend  their  life  in  her  service,  and  she  had 
flouted  them  and  their  owner  but  three  days 
since,  —  yes,  and  answered  the  proffer  of  honest 
love  by  a  slap  in  the  face  from  an  evergreen 
bough  ! 

It  would  seem  by  all  the  laws  of  psychology 
that  this  angry  humility  and  consciousness  of  her 
own  errors  should  have  made  pretty  Peggy  more 
tolerant  of  the  mistakes  and  shortcomings  of 
others ;  but  by  a  strange  revulsion,  as  she  drew 
near  the  corner  where  Elinor  Calvert  sat  gazing 
into  vacancy  as  if  turned  to  stone  by  the  sight  of 
the  gorgon's  head,  her  anger  swiftly  changed  its 
object.  Slowly  and  somewhat  scornfully  Peggy 
looked  her  over  from  head  to  foot. 

"  Do  you  believe  this  calumny  ?  "  she  asked. 

No  answer  from  lips  or  eyes. 

"  Oh,  shame  !  "  cried  the  girl.  "  I  can  bear  it 
for  the  rest ;  but  that  you,  who  have  known  him 
half  his  life,  you  whom  he  loved,  nay  worshipped, 
putting  you  well  nigh  in  the  place  of  God  above, 
that  you  should  condemn  him  —  oh,  it  is  too 
much  !  Thank  God  he  still  has  me  to  love  and 
cling  to  him  !  " 

Slowly  the  stony  face  relaxed,  the  fixed  eyes 
began  to  see  things  once  more,  but  the  voice  was 
still  dim  and  distant  as  Elinor  answered, — 

178 


The  Greater  Love 

"  Cease,  child  !  —  prate  no  more  of  what  you 
feel  for  Christopher  Neville  !  You  say  you  love 
too  much  to  doubt  him.  What  is  your  love  to 
mine  ?  I  know  him  guilty,  and  yet,  God  help 
me,  I  love  him  still  !  " 


179 


CHAPTER   XII 

HOW    LOVERS    ARE    CONVINCED 

NOTHING  is  more  impossible  than  to 
predict  what  one's  emotions  will  be  in 
any  given  crisis.  If  any  one  had  told 
Christopher  Neville  that  lying  in  a  shed  under 
accusation  of  murder,  believed  guilty  by  his  lady 
love,  cast  off  by  his  friend,  his  most  acute  sensa 
tion  would  be  envy  of  the  tobacco  which  the 
sentry  was  smoking  outside  the  door,  he  would 
have  laughed  the  prophet  to  scorn ;  yet  so  it  was. 

The  nervous  strain,  added  to  the  cold  of  the 
tobacco-house,  was  more  than  he  could  bear,  and 
beyond  any  spiritual  help  he  craved  physical 
stimulant,  something  to  make  "a  man  of  him  " 
again,  to  give  him  back  that  courage  and  coolness 
which  had  never  yet  deserted  him,  but  which  he 
felt  now  slipping  away  fast. 

At  length  he  felt  shame  at  such  loss  of  man 
hood,  and  began  to  take  himself  to  task. 

"  Come,  now,  Christopher  Neville,  thou  sour- 
faced  son  of  ill  fortune  ! "  he  said  aloud,  as  if 
talking  to  another  person,  "  state  thy  woes,  one 

180 


How  Lovers  Are  Convinced 

by  one,  and  I  will  combat  them  with  what  heart 
I  may.  Begin  then  !  —  What  first  ?  " 

"  I  am  in  prison." 

"  Where  many  a  better  man  has  been  before 
thee.  In  a  palace  thou  mightst  be  in  worse 
company." 

"  I  am  cold." 

"  Walk  about !  " 

cc  I  am  hungry." 

cc  Pull  down  yonder  tobacco-leaf  and  chew  it." 

cc  My  friends  have  forsaken  me." 

"  So  did  Job's." 

"  My  sweetheart  has  turned  the  cold  shoulder 


to  me." 


"  Then  do  thou  turn  thy  back  full  to  her. 
Use  thy  reason,  man  alive !  Hast  thou  lived  to 
nigh  forty  years,  to  be  hurt  like  a  boy  by  a 
woman's  inconstancy  ?  Laugh  at  her,  revile  her 
if  thou  wilt,  rip  out  round  oaths ;  but,  an  thou 
be  not  quite  demented,  put  not  thy  courage 
beneath  the  foot  of  her  scorn!" 

"  But  I  love  her." 

"  Ah,  poor  fool  !  There  thou  hast  me.  Thou 
knowst  well  I  have  no  balm  in  my  box  to  med 
icine  that  hurt.  Yet  what  can't  be  cured,  may  be 
forgot,  for  a  while  at  least.  Wine  would  do  it. 
Perchance  tobacco  may  —  Curse  that  guard ! 
How  good  his  pipe  smells!  —  I  would  I  had 


one." 


181 


Sir  Christopher 

Neville  had  never  yet  failed  of  a  benefit  fol 
lack  of  asking,  so  now  he  set  up  a  tattoo  with 
his  fists  on  the  wall. 

"  What 's  wanted  within  there  ?  "  came  gruffly 
from  the  guard. 

"  What  would  you  want  if  you  *d  been  shut  up 
in  this  cold  hole  for  a  night  and  a  day  ?  " 

"  I  might  want  ortolans  and  pheasants  and  a 
bottle  of  old  Madeira ;  but  if  I  was  a  murderer, 
and  as  good  as  a  dead  man  myself,  I  should  n't 
look  to  get  them  —  not  ;n  this  world." 

Neville  kept  his  temper.  It  was  all  he  had 
left. 

"  Maybe  not ;  but  if  you  saw  a  fellow  outside, 
with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth  and  a  tobacco  pouch  in 
his  pocket,  and  another  pipe  bulging  out  at  the 
breast  of  his  jerkin,  it 's  likely  you  'd  count  on 
his  taking  pity  on  the  poor  devil  locked  up 
inside,  and  giving  him  a  bit  smoke." 

The  guard  weakened  visibly.  Neville  could 
see  through  the  crack  that  he  half  turned  and  put 
his  hand  irresolutely  to  his  pocket.  Then  he 
straightened  himself  more  rigidly. 

"  How  do  I  know  but  you  want  to  set  the 
tobacco-house  afire  ?  And  then  off  you  'd  be,  and 
't  is  I  must  answer  for  you  to  the  Governor  —  a 
just  man,  but  hard  on  one  that  fails  in  his  duty." 

"  Come,  then,"  called  Neville  more  cheerfully, 
feeling  his  point  half  won;  "  why  not  come  in  and 

182 


How  Lovers  Are  Convinced 

smoke  with  me  ?  Then  you  can  keep  an  eye  on 
me  and  the  tobacco  together,  and  it  will  be  a 
comfort  to  me  to  have  speech  of  a  fellow  mortal 
instead  of  being  tormented  by  my  cursed  unpleas 
ant  thoughts.'* 

Truth  to  tell,  the  guard  was  nearly  as  weary  of 
solitude  as  his  prisoner.  This  walking  up  and 
down  in  the  dusk  from  one  pine-tree  to  another 
was  not  lively  work,  and  besides,  there  was  a  com 
pelling  magnetism  in  Neville's  voice  that  had 
charmed  stronger  men  than  the  guard,  Philpotts. 

Slowly,  and  with  a  certain  reluctance  to  yield 
characteristic  of  Englishmen,  and  quite  independ 
ent  of  the  value  of  the  thing  conceded,  he  drew 
the  heavy  bolt  and  entered. 

The  interior  of  the  shed,  for  it  was  scarcely 
more,  was  dismal  enough  in  the  half  light.  The 
long  tobacco  leaves  hanging  from  the  beams  sug 
gested  mourner's  weeds,  and  waved  ominously  in 
the  wind  as  the  door  was  opened.  Daylight  still 
peeped  in  through  the  chinks.  By  its  help  Neville 
studied  the  heavy  outlines  of  the  guard's  figure 
clad  in  a  sad  colored  campaign  coat  lined  with  blue 
and  surmounted  by  a  montero  cap  which  shaded 
a  pock-marked  face,  a  typical  English  face,  square 
cut,  obstinate,  with  persistence  and  loyalty  writ 
large  all  over  it. 

"  Pardon  my  not  rising,"  said  Neville,  as  if  he 
were  receiving  a  courtier.  "  The  cold  and  damp- 

183 


Sir  Christopher 

ness  of  this  place  have  given  me  the  rheum  to 
such  extent  that  each  bone  in  my  body  hath  its 
own  particular  pain.  If  I  kneel  my  knees  ache, 
if  I  sit  my  hips  ache,  if  I  bend  my  back  aches.' ' 

"  Marry,"  interrupted  the  jailer,  with  a  coarse 
laugh ;  "  't  is  well  you  are  to  try  hanging,  which 
will  rest  them  all." 

"  You  have  a  very  pretty  wit,  jailer,  and  so 
keen  one  would  say  it  had  been  sharpened  on  an 
English  whetstone.  The  French  have  no  gift  for 
such  rapier  thrusts." 

"  Oh,  to  Hell  with  the  French  !  " 

"  Hell  must  be  crammed  full  of  foreigners. 
We  English  are  always  sending  them  there/' 

"  No  doubt  you  '11  know  soon." 

"Very  likely.  If  I  do,  I  '11  send  you  word  — 
and  by  the  way,  so  that  I  may  not  forget,  what  is 
your  name  ?  " 

"  Philpotts." 

"  Ah  !     Related  to  Robert  Philpot  of  Kent  ?  " 

"  No  ;  no  such  fine  folk  in  our  line.  Besides, 
my  name  is  Philpotts." 

"One /and  two  /V?" 

"  That  same,"  replied  the  guard  laconically, 
having  no  mind  to  be  drawn  into  too  friendly 
intercourse. 

"  A  droli  name  !  " 

"  None  too  droll  for  many  an  honest  man  to 
bear  it." 

184 


How  Lovers  Are  Convinced 

"  Pardon  me,  I  doubt  not  the  honesty  ;  but  I 
question  whether  there  be  many  Philpottses  float 
ing  round  the  world.  I  never  knew  but  one,  and 
he  lived  in  Somerset." 

"  Somerset  ?  " 

"  Ay,  in  a  little  village  on  the  coast  between 
the  Mendip  hills  and  the  river  Axe." 

A  look  of  recollection  stole  into  the  dull  gray 
eyes,  but  still  the  shrewd  self-restraint  lingered. 

cc  How  did  the  village  lie,  and  what  is  its 
name  ?  " 

"  Its  name  is  Regis,  and  it  lies  like  a  baby  in  a 
cradle,  snugly  tucked  away  in  the  dip  of  the  hills  ; 
and  there  is  a  brook  close  beside  it  that  comes 
tumbling  over  the  rocks  to  lose  itself  in  the  Axe." 

Philpotts  nodded  unconscious  assent. 

"  Oh,"  continued  Neville,  "  but  I  would  like  to 
see  that  river  Axe  once  more  !  I  do  remember 
a  famous  pool  where  the  fish  leaped  to  the  hook 
in  the  spring  in  a  fashion  to  make  a  man's  blood 
sing." 

"  Did  ye  know  Philpotts,  then  ? " 

"  Ay." 

"  What  mought  his  first  name  ha'  been  ? " 

"James — James  Philpotts.  He  had  a  farm 
of  my  father,  and  he  and  I  were  wont  to  go  a-fish- 
ing  together  in  the  Axe,  and  one  cold  day  he  fell 
in.  He  could  n't  swim,  if  I  remember  ;  and  how 
like  a  drowned  rat  he  did  look  when  he  got  out  J  " 

185 


Sir  Christopher 

At  the  memory,  in  spite  of  all  his  troubles, 
Neville  laughed  aloud.  Philpotts  slowly  laid 
down  his  pipe,  and  propped  it  against  a  board, 
determined,  before  yielding  to  emotion,  to  attend 
to  the  safety  of  the  tobacco-house.  Then  strid 
ing  over  to  Neville  he  seized  his  hand  in  his  own 
two  brawny  ones  with  a  grip  that  made  the  other 
man  wince. 

"  Swim  ?  no,  that  he  could  n't,  and  it 's  his  life 
and  all  he  owes  to  you,  sir,  and  he  bade  me  look 
out  for  you  in  the  New  World  and  pay  back  the 
service  an  ever  I  got  the  chance ;  but  't  was  the 
name  misled  me,  —  c  Jack  Neville,'  says  my 
brother  ;  £  Christopher  Neville/  says  the  Governor 
in  the  manor-house  yesterday." 

"  Ay,  my  name  is  Christopher ;  but  as  I  had  a 
cousin  who  bore  the  same,  and  who  was  often  at 
Frome  for  months  at  a  time,  the  family  were 
wont  to  call  me  £  Jack,'  after  my  father." 

"So  —  thou  —  art — the  son  of  Master  John 
Neville  of  Frome  House  ?  " 

The  words  came  hard,  as  if  forced  out. 

Philpotts  stood  looking  at  the  prisoner  till 
slowly  the  mouth  began  to  work,  two  tears  slipped 
out  from  his  eyelids  and  slid  down  his  nose.  He 
put  up  the  sleeve  of  his  jerkin  to  wipe  them  off, 
and  then,  fairly  overcome,  leaned  against  his  arm 
on  the  post  in  the  corner  and  fell  to  sobbing  aloud. 

"Forgive  me  blubbering,  sir;  but,  oh,  to  see 
1 86 


How  Lovers  Are  Convinced 

you  in  this  sorry  case,  and  me  a-guarding  you  that 
should  be  helping  you  to  escape.  Shame  on 
them  that  shut  up  an  innocent  man  and  planned 
his  ruin  !  " 

"  An  innocent  man  ?  "  queried  Neville  ;  "  why, 
't  is  not  five  minutes  since  that  I  was  a  murderer 
unfit  to  share  an  honest  man's  pipe." 

"  God  ha'  mercy  on  my  blind  stupidity !  I 
see  not  how  I  could  ha'  looked  in  your  face  and 
not  seen  that  't  was  na'  in  those  eyes  to  look 
on  a  man  to  murder  him  nor  in  that  mouth  to 
swear  falsely." 

"  Not  so  fast,  Philpotts  !  Many  a  saint  has 
had  the  ill  luck  to  look  like  a  pirate,  and  I  was 
thrown  in  with  a  man  in  Algiers  that  I  would 
have  shared  my  last  crust  with,  and  he  stole  my 
wallet  and  made  off  with  it  in  the  night." 

"  Well,  mebbe  it 's  because  I  'm  not  of  the 
quality  and  have  no  book  learning,  but  when  I 
feel  things  in  my  bones  I  don't  question  of  them  ; 
and  now  my  eyes  are  open  and  I  see  you  're  inno 
cent,  I  'm  going  to  help  you  out  of  this  hole." 

"But  the  danger  —  " 

"  To  Hell  with  the  danger  !  There  never  was 
a  Philpotts  yet  was  a  coward." 

"  But  your  farm  is  well  started  here." 

"  Let  it  go  to  seed,  then.  It 's  little  good  there 
is  for  a  Protestant  in  this  Papist  province,  any 
how,  and  I  'd  not  be  sorry  to  be  off  to  Virginia. 

187 


Sir  Christopher 

I  've    a    boat    on   the  river   below.     So  you  see 
there  's  nothing  between  you  and  freedom." 

"  Yes,  there  is  one  thing." 

"  An'  what 's  that,  pray  ?  " 

As  if  in  answer  to  the  question  came  a  rapid 
knock  at  the  door  outside.  The  guard  grasped 
his  musket  and  marched  once  or  twice  up  arid 
down  the  barn  to  recover  his  severe  military 
bearing  before  he  drew  the  door  a  crack  open. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  " 

"  It  is  I,  Mistress  Calvert,  cousin  to  Governor 
Brent." 

Neville's  heart  felt  as  if  it  were  an  anvil,  and 
some  unseen  power  were  laying  on  the  hammer- 
strokes  thick  and  fast.  The  blood  surged  to  his 
face,  and  then  fell  back  again  leaving  it  white. 
She  had  come.  Was  he  glad  or  sorry  ?  Pride 
said,  cc  You  are  sorry."  Love  whispered,  "  You 
are  glad  —  do  not  deny  it."  Pride  answered, 
"  Yes,  glad  of  the  chance  to  make  her  sorry." 

"  I  know  not  how  to  deny  you,  Mistress  Cal 
vert,"  came  from  without  in  Philpotts'  voice, 
"  but  my  commands  are -that  none  should  enter 
save  by  the  Governor's  orders." 

"  Uncivil  fellow  !  "  Neville  instinctively  felt  for 
his  sword,  and  would  have  made  a  trial  of  his 
strength  without  it,  but  that  on  the  instant  he 
heard  that  voice,  the  voice  that  could  make  little 
shivers  run  from  head  to  foot. 

188 


How  Lovers  Are  Convinced 

"You  are  in  the  right,  as  usual,  good  Master 
Philpotts,  and  foreseeing  that  you  could  not  be 
swayed  without  the  Governor's  order,  the  Gov 
ernor's  order  I  have  brought  for  a  half-hour's 
talk  with  the  prisoner,  you  meanwhile  to  ^  be 
within  call,  but  not  within  hearing.  See!  is 't 
not  writ  as  I  have  said  ? "  she  asked,  holding  the 
paper  toward  him. 

"I  am  not  such  a  churl  as  to  dispute  a  lady's 
word,"  said  Philpotts,  glad  in  this  chivalrous 
manner  to  evade  a  too  severe  strain  on  his  powers 
of  reading  a  written  document.  "  The  Governor's 
order  shall  be  obeyed,"  and  swinging  back  the 
door  he  closed  it  again  behind  him  and  resumed 
his  march  from  the  green  pine-tree  to  the  brown 
one,  and  from  the  brown  tree  back  again  to  the 
green,  watching  the  yellow  sun  set  behind  the 
distant  hills.  His  taciturnity  yielded  at  last  to 
the  extent  of  one  exclamation,  "  By  the  Lord 
Harry,  what  a  coil !  " 

As  Elinor  Calvert  entered  she  threw  back  her 
sable  hood,  and  her  pale,  beautiful  face,  surrounded 
by  its  golden  hair,  shone  like  the  moon  against 
the  dark  setting  of  the  tobacco-hung  rafters.  Her 
only  ornament  was  the  diamond  crescent  at  her 
throat,  which  glistened  as  a  ray  of  the  setting  sun 
struck  upon  it.  Her  eyes  were  full  of  unshed 
tears,  and  her  lips  trembled  so  that  she  could 
scarcely  control  them  enough  to  utter  the  words 

189 


Sir  Christopher 


she  had  come  to  speak.  Her  hands  were  clenched 
tightly,  as  if  by  that  force  alone  she  held  to  her 
resolution. 

Inside  the  door  she  waited  for  some  word  of 
welcome  or  greeting.  She  put  up  her  hand  to 
her  throat  as  if  to  ease  the  sorrow  which  was  ris 
ing  and  swelling  within.  By  accident  her  ringers 
grasped  the  crescent,  and  she  clung  to  .it  as  to  a 
talisman.  Neville  made  no  step  toward  her.  He 
stood  leaning  against  the  wall,  his  arms  folded 
before  him.  It  was  as  if  she  were  the  criminal 
and  he  the  judge.  The  silence  was  intolerable  to 
Elinor. 

"  Speak  to  me  ! "  she  cried  at  last,  stretching 
out  her  hands  toward  him.  Her  voice  betrayed 
a  dry  anguish  in  the  throat,  and  her  breath  came 
in  quick,  short  gasps. 

"  Are  you  come  as  Governor  Brent's  mes 
senger  ? " 

Elinor  shivered  as  though  his  tone  had  more 
chill  in  it  than  the  January  air,  but  her  own 
was  equally  haughty  as  she  answered,  — 

"  I  come  by  permission  of  my  kinsman,  who 
never  deserts  a  friend." 

"  No,  faith  !  since  when  the  friend  needs  help 
he  ceases  to  be  one." 

"  Your  words  are  brutal." 

"  Perchance.  I  have  not  been  trained  by  your 
Fathers  to  mean  one  thing  and  say  another." 

190 


How  Lovers  Are  Convinced 

Elinor  felt  for  her  hood  as  though  she  would 
have  drawn  it  over  her  head  again  and  left  with 
out  another  word ;  then  changing  her  mind,  she 
advanced  nearer. 

"  This  is  not  a  kind  greeting,"  she  said,  "  for 
one  who  comes  to  help  you." 

"  If  I  were  not  past  help  I  might  have  spoke 
more  kindly." 

"  Oh,  but  you  are  not  past  help.  And  that  is 
what  the  Governor  bade  me  say,  that  it  is  not 
too  late ;  that  he  knows  Father  Mohl  pricked 
you  past  endurance,  and  that  he  will  move 
heaven  and  earth  to  get  you  off  if  you  will  but 
confess,  so  that  no  innocent  man  may  suffer." 

Neville  bowed  with  ironical  courtesy. 

"You  will  give  me  an  answer  to  take  to 
him?" 

"  I  have  given  Governor  Brent  my  answer 
once." 

"  Oh,  think !  Do  not  send  me  away  hastily. 
Think  what  is  before  you,  —  the  chains,  the 
prison,  the  —  the  scaffold" 

Neville  smiled. 

"  Have  you  no  feeling  ?     How  can  you  smile  ?  " 

"  Was  I  smiling  ?  I  suppose  I  was  following 
your  words  and  picturing  the  scenes  you  called 
up,  especially  the  last.  I  was  thinking  about 
the  fellows  who  would  make  the  noose  fast  and 
swing  me  off,  fancying,  poor  fools,  that  they  had 

191 


Sir  Christopher 

killed  me.  How  little  they  would  know  that 
the  death  came  off  weeks  before,  and  was  dealt 
by  one  glance  from  a  pair  of  purple-gray  eyes 
that  said  in  yonder  court-room,  c  I  count  you 
guilty/  ' 

"  Stay  not  to  bandy  phrases  ! "  interrupted 
Elinor,  swaying  a  little  unsteadily  on  her  feet. 
"Talk  no  more  of  guilt  or  innocence;  but  let 
us  look  about  for  another  plan  of  escape  since 
you  will  not  trust  Giles  Brent.  Look,  I  am 
near  as  tall  as  you.  I  measured  height  the 
evening  you  stood  by  me  at  the  fire.  You 
have  fair  hair,  too,  like  mine.  Let  us  change 
attire,  and  you  in  my  cloak  shall  slip  out  yonder 
door." 

"And  you?" 

<c  What  matter  what  befalls  me  ?  As  you  say 
yourself,  I  have  got  my  death  wound  already." 

"  But  your  boy  —  Cecil." 

"  There  are  others  who  will  care  for  him. 
Mary  Brent  loves  him  as  her  own,  and  Giles 
will  look  to  him  for  my  sake." 

Neville  started ;  he  had  never  thought  before 
of  that  possibility  of  Brent's  having  once  loved 
Elinor,  yet  why  not,  when  none  could  be  near 
her  and  not  feel  the  magic  of  that  charm  before 
which  even  now  his  pride  was  ebbing  fast ;  but 
this  thought  stung  him  to  new  haughtiness. 

"You  and  your  cousin  have  been  equally  at 
192 


How  Lovers  Are  Convinced 

fault  in  your  judgment  of  me,"  he  said,  dryly.  "  I 
am  as  capable  of  murdering  a  priest  as  of  taking 
shelter  behind  a  woman  and  leaving  her  to  bear 
my  punishment.  If  I  wished  to  escape  I  am 
not  dependent  upon  your  help.  There  are 
others,  tried  and  true  and  firm  believers  in  my 
innocence,  who  have  offered  me  freedom,  but 
my  honor  would  not  be  clear.  There  is  just 
one  way  out  of  the  present  coil,  and  that  road 
leads  up  the  scaffold  —  and  down  again/' 

"No!  No!  No!  1  say  it  shall  not  be ! " 
cried  Elinor,  carried  beyond  herself  in  a  burst 
of  passion.  "  You  must  —  you  shall  get  away 
from  this  horrible  place.  Come ! "  she  added 
with  a  smile,  changing  suddenly  from  anger  to 
sweetness  — "  come !  you  have  oft  said  there 
was  naught  on  earth  you  would  not  do  for 
my  sake.  Now  what  I  ask  is  such  a  little 
thing." 

"  I  have  heard  of  Jesuit  methods,"  said  Neville, 
as  if  speaking  to  himself.  "  'T  was  a  shrewd 
trick  when  other  shifts  failed  to  tempt  a  man 
through  the  woman  he  loved,  the  woman  who 
had  once  loved  him." 

"  Had  loved  thee  !  Would  to  God  the  taunt 
were  true !  Have  not  faith  and  reason  grappled 
with  each  other  through  the  long  midnight  hours, 
one  saying,  c  He  is  innocent,  you  feel  it;1  and 
the  other,  c  He  is  guilty,  you  know  it'?  And 
13  193 


Sir  Christopher 

at  the  end,  when  both  fell  down  conquered  by 
the  combat,  Love  rose  up  greater  than  either 
and  took  me  by  the  throat  and  brought  me 
here.  Listen,  Christopher !  If  you  have  done 
this  thing  /  have  done  it,  for  you  and  I  are 
one.  If  you  are  put  to  death  I  will  end  my 
life  by  my  own  hand,  and  then  we  shall  be  to 
gether  to  all  eternity  ;  and  what  matter  if  the 
priests  call  it  Hell!" 

Neville  took  a  step  forward.  Falling  on  his 
knees  at  her  feet  he  raised  the  hem  of  her  dress 
to  his  lips  and  kissed  it  once,  twice,  thrice. 

"Oh,  Elinor!  Oh,  my  darling!"  he  mur 
mured,  "this  is  love  indeed,  perfect  love  which 
passeth  understanding ;  but  oh,  how,  how,"  — 
with  this  he  rose  and  strode  impatiently  up  and 
down  the  floor — "how  can  you  love  me  like 
this  and  still  doubt  me  ?  You  have  known  me 
these  many  years,  you  have  seen  me  go  in  and 
out  among  my  fellows,  surely  not  like  a  cut 
throat  and  assassin.  You  have  seen  me  raise 
my  hand  to  Heaven  and  swear  in  that  high 
presence  to  my  innocence,  and  still  you  con 
demn  me.  What  in  God's  name  can  I  do  or 
say  more  ?  " 

He  fixed  his  eyes  upon  Elinor,  whose  whole 
frame  shook  with  the  force  of  the  feeling  that 
swayed  her.  The  blood  rushed  up  and  over 
flowed  her  face  and  neck,  and  her  voice  sank 

194 


How  Lovers  Are  Convinced 

to  a  whisper  as  she  leaned  toward  him  and  mur 
mured, — 

"  I  think  —  I  think  if  you  were  to  take  me  in 
your  arms  and  whisper  it  in  my  ear,  I  —  even 
I  —  should  believe  —  and  be  at  peace." 


'95 


CHAPTER   XIII 

A    CHANGE    OF    VENUE 

FOR  an  hour  after  Elinor  had  left  him 
Neville  sat  staring  into  the  gathering  dusk 
as  if  it  had  been  the  gate  of  Paradise. 
The  swaying  of  the  tobacco  leaves  in  the  night 
wind  was  as  the  rustle  of  angel's  wings,  and  the 
light  of  heaven  itself  seemed  to  fall  round  him 
like  a  halo.  For  him  life  had  been  lived  out, 
and  looking  back  he  pronounced  it  worth  while. 
The  years  of  suffering,  of  waiting,  of  toil  and 
danger  threatening  to  end  in  ignominious  death 
were  weighed  in  the  balance  against  the  minutes 
when  he  had  held  Elinor  Calvert  close  to  his 
heart,  and  lo  the  years  flew  up  light  as  thistle 
down,  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the 
weight  of  glory  of  those  transcendent  moments 
when  they  stood  together,  he  and  she,  cheek  to 
cheek,  heart  to  heart,  no  word  said,  because  all 
was  understood,  and  they  two  alone  in  the  round 
world  of  a  kiss. 

Philpotts    was    quite    disappointed     when     he 
came  in  with  the  lantern  to  find  his  prisoner  so 

cheerful. 

196 


A  Change  of  Venue 

"  I  ha'  brought  summat  to  comfort  you  ;  but 
ye  are  smiling  as  if  ye  'd  been  bid  to  the  King's 
ball." 

"  Eh  !    What  ?  "  asked  Neville,  dreamily  still. 

"  I  'm  saying  you  might  from  your  looks  ha' 
been  to  court,  or  knighted  over  again,  or  summat 
like  that." 

"  There 's  more  knighting  than  comes  from 
the  King's  hand,  my  good  Philpotts." 

"  H'm  ?  "  said  Philpotts,  uncomprehending. 

"  Nothing,"  answered  Neville. 

"  I  'm  glad  to  see  you  're  not  giving  in 
beaten." 

"  A  man,  Philpotts,  is  never  beaten  till  he  has 
said  in  his  heart,  c  I  am  beaten.'  ' 

"  That 's  right.  Keep  up  your  heart,  and  your 
heart  '11  keep  you  up  in  spite  of  Fate." 

"  Pooh  !  Show  me  Fate  and  I  will  show  you 
the  will  of  a  man  ;  but  what  have  you  there  in 
your  hand  ? " 

"  Oh,  ye  may  well  ask.  'T  is  no  slight  honor, 
I  can  tell  you,  to  get  a  letter  from  Mistress 
Margaret  Brent.  I  know  'tis  from  her,  for  the 
boy  that  brought  it  bade  me  say  so  ;  twice  he 
said  it,  and  bade  me  not  forget,  as  if  that  were 
likely." 

Neville  reached  out  his  hand  for  the  letter,  and 
bending  near  the  lantern  broke  the  seal  and 
read,  — 

'97 


Sir  Christopher 


"  I  am  sure,  sir,  you  will  be  glad  to  know  that  there  are 
those  who  believe  in  your  innocence  and  will  do  all  they  can  to 
establish  it.  My  position  is  a  delicate  one,  for  I  can  neither 
thwart  those  in  power,  nor  openly  act  against  them  ;  but  what 
I  can  do  I  will,  and  meanwhile  should  you  by  any  chance 
reach  Kent  Island  you  may  find  a  refuge  and  a  shelter. " 

The  note  had  neither  beginning  nor  end. 

"  I  thank  you  !  "  said  Neville  aloud,  as  if  the 
writer  of  the  note  were  near ;  and  may  not  souls 
draw  near  as  well  as  bodies  ? 

Philpotts  hearing  his  voice  turned  back. 

"  Was  it  good  news  ?  "  he  asked. 

"The  best." 

"  Will  it  help  ye  ?  " 

"  Ay,  on  the  scaffold  itself.'* 

"  Never  be  talking  so  much  of  what 's  far  off. 
There 's  no  luck  in  prophesying  ill  things.  Was 
ever  any  one  in  your  family  hung  ?  " 

"  No ;  none  rose  so  high,"  said  Neville,  with 
bitter  humor. 

"  Still  another  sending  for  thee.  'T  was  brought 
by  Mistress  Calvert's  son  while  his  mother  was 
within.  I  wonder  does  the  child  think  we  mean 
to  starve  you."  As  he  spoke  he  drew  out  a  loaf 
of  bread. 

"He  said  you  were  not  to  wait  till  morning, 
but  eat  it  all  to-night." 

Neville    smiled,    a   sweet,   wholesome,  human 

smile. 

198 


A  Change  of  Venue 

"  Give  it  me,"  he  said,  and  broke  off  a  great 
chunk.  To  his  surprise  he  found  the  loaf  hollow, 
and  inside  was  Cecil's  knife  wrapped  round  with 
a  bit  of  paper  on  which  was  scrawled  in  a  childish 
hand,  — 

"I  crep  out  of  bed  to  get  this  Loaf.  I  was  afraid  of  bars 
tho  you  say  they  cum  not  into  houses.  I  dug  out  the  Bred 
with  my  nife  and  thru  the  crums  out  at  the  Windo  so  Mother 
sh'd  not  see  them.  I  hope  you  will  stab  your  jalor,  and  jump 
out  your  Windo  too.  Sum  day  you  shal  cum  to  Robin  Hood's 
Barn.  You  may  keep  the  Nife.  CALVERT." 

"  Here,  Philpotts,"  said  Neville,  handing  over 
the  knife,  "this  is  for  you;  but  with  your 
leave  I  will  keep  the  note,"  and  he  folded  it 
and  laid  it  next  his  heart,  as  though  it  had  been 
written  by  his  own  son. 

"Why  not  keep  it  yoursel',  Master  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  use  for  it." 

"  I  can  find  one." 

"  Still  harping  on  escape  ?  Every  one  seems  to 
know  me  for  a  coward." 

"  No  son  of  Master  John  Neville  was  ever 
that ;  yet  I  do  beg  of  you,  sir,  see,  on  my  knees, 
to  quit  this  prison  now,  this  hour,  for  who  knows 
what  the  next  may  bring  forth  !  " 

"  My  kind  jailor,  my  good  friend,  get  up  from 
those  honorable  knees  of  yours  which  bend  before 
adversity  as  most  men's  to  prosperity," 

"  Your  promise  first !  " 
199 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Never  to  that  you  do  propose ;  but  here 's 
my  hand,  and  it 's  proud  I  am  to  offer  it ;  and 
now,  good-night,  for  it  is  well  with  me  in  body 
and  soul,  and  I  would  fain  try  to  fall  asleep  to  see 
if  I  can  conjure  up  again  in  my  dreams  certain 
visions  which  have  made  me  happier  than  ever  I 
was  in  my  life  before." 

Philpotts  thought  Neville's  troubles  had  driven 
him  mad,  and  withdrew  to  his  own  corner,  mut 
tering  curses  on  those  that  had  unhinged  this 
noble  mind;  but  Neville  lay  still  in  such  bliss  as 
only  angels  and  lovers  know,  till  sleep  came  softly 
and  kissed  his  eyelids. 

The  long  slumber  somewhat  tarnished  the  glory 
of  Neville's  mood,  and  when  he  awoke  at  the  turn 
of  morning  he  was  conscious  of  a  reactionary 
depression  of  soul. 

Say  what  we  will  of  the  gloom  of  gathering 
night,  it  is  as  nothing  to  the  grimness  of  the  gray 
dawn.  Night  swallows  up  detail.  The  facts  of 
one's  life  seen  in  midnight  hours  may  look  tragic  ; 
but  they  are  large  and  vague,  with  somewhat  of 
the  vastness  of  eternity.  In  the  morning  they 
stand  out  in  all  their  bare,  shabby  pettiness,  and 
we  shrink  back  appalled  from  the  tasks  of  the 
coming  day. 

As  Neville  woke  he  felt  a  hand  upon  his  breast, 
and  looking  up  saw  Philpotts  standing  over  him 
with  a  grave  face. 

200 


A  Change  of  Venue 

"  They  Ve  come  for  you.  Master  Neville." 

"  <  They  ? '     Who  ?  " 

"  They  are  come  by  the  Governor's  orders  to 
fetch  you  away,  belike  to  St.  Mary's  for  trial. 
Oh,  sir,  but  you  'd  best  have  heeded  my  offer 
last  night  and  got  away  while  there  was  time  !  " 

"  My  good  Philpotts,  when  milk  is  spilled  it  is 
spilled,  and  there 's  no  good  in  thinking  what 
fine  puddings  it  would  have  made.  You  Ve  done 
your  best  for  me,  like  a  man.  Now  go  away  and 
forget  the  whole  business.  Plant  your  cabbages 
in  the  spring,  and  water  them  not  with  any  tears 
for  me  !  " 

"  Me  go  away  !  Not  me,  sir !  And  by  good 
luck  it 's  orders  that  I  'm  to  be  one  of  the  escort 
to  St.  Mary's.  That  is,  if  't  is  to  St.  Mary's 
we  're  bound  ;  but  the  orders  are  sealed,  or  some 
flummery  like  that  they  talked  about,  as  the 
paper's  not* to  be  opened  till  we're  out  in  the 
river." 

"  Ah  !  You  make  me  feel  like  a  State  charac 
ter.  My  importance  is  rising.  Where  are  the 
gentlemen  ?  We  must  not  keep  them  waiting." 

A  rattle  at  the  door  showed  that  the  visitors 
were  growing  impatient,  and  as  Neville  stepped 
toward  it  two  men  flung  it  open  and  entered 
hastily.  One  was  tall,  the  other  short.  Both 
wore  long  cloaks  and  hats  pulled  rather  low  over 
their  faces,  as  though  they  felt  little  pride  in  this 

2OI 


Sir  Christopher 

charge  of  their  prisoner  In  truth,  Neville  even 
in  his  short  stay  in  the  colony  had  made  the  rep 
utation  of  a  gentleman  and  a  brave  man,  and 
there  were  many  that  grieved  for  him,  and  won 
dered  whether  the  knife  alone  were  evidence 
enough  to  hang  a  man  upon.  Moreover,  de 
spite  the  wise  and  liberal  rule  of  the  Lord  Pro 
prietor,  the  Papist-Protestant  feeling  ran  high 
throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  Maryland, 
and  the  Protestants  were  ready  to  a  man  to  swear 
to  Neville's  innocence  for  no  other  reason  than 
his  religion. 

This  alone  might  have  been  enough  to  make 
Giles  Brent  wish  the  trial  to  take  place  at  Kent 
Island,  where  enough  force  could  be  brought 
to  bear  to  keep  the  peace  while  the  trial  pro 
ceeded. 

"  There  is  one  favor  I  am  fain  to  ask  at  your 
hands,  gentlemen/'  said  Neville,  as'  he  took  up 
his  hat. 

"  Any  favor  consistent  with  the  Governor's 
wish  and  the  good  of  the  Commonwealth  we  will 
be  pleased  to  grant." 

"I  have  a  sister  at  the  Manor,  a  sister  who 
would  cry  her  pretty  eyes  out  if  her  brother  had 
the  ill  manners  to  take  his  departure  without  a 
word  of  farewell.  May  not  our  course  take  me 
past  her  window,  that  I  may  at  least  wave  a 
good-bye  ?  " 

202 


A  Change  of  Venue 

The  smaller  man,  he  of  the  purple  cloak  and 
broad,  drooping  purple  hat,  moved  as  if  he  were 
in  favor  of  granting  the  petition  ;  but  the  other 
spoke  with  some  sternness,  — 

"  We  have  no  time  for  such  courtesies  as  fare 
wells  spoken  or  wafted  from  finger-tips.  Our 
orders  are  to  set  forward  with  all  speed  and  to  be 
aboard  the  ketch  before  sunrise/' 

"  As  you  will.  Poor  little  Peggy  !  "  he  mur 
mured  to  himself.  "  So  end  all  her  plans  of 
escape.  On  the  whole  I  am  glad.  Now  she 
will  cease  pestering  me  to  save  myself." 

"  I  fear,"  said  the  larger  man,  "  that  we  must 
ask  you  to  submit  to  having  your  arms  bound. 
'T  is  an  indignity  we  would  gladly  spare  you, 
but  the  Governor's  orders  — " 

"  Spare  me  at  least  your  apologies.  On  with 
the  ropes  ! " 

Five  minutes  later  the  door  was  flung  open  and 
the  four  men  took  the  road.  Neville  in  the  lead 
with  the  tall  stranger,  Philpotts  and  the  other 
following  close  behind.  In  his  zeal  to  keep  up 
with  the  great  strides  of  Philpotts,  the  smaller 
man  tripped  over  his  sword  and  well-nigh  fell 
down  the  steep  pine-needle  carpeted  path  slip 
pery  with  hoar  frost.  The  larger  man  looked 
back  annoyed.  Neville  smiled  at  his  discomfiture. 

"  Faith,  Brent  despatched  a  boy  to  do  a  man's 
work.  Were't  not  for  Philpotts  I  could,  an  it 

203 


Sir  Christopher 

pleased  me,  make  short  work  of  you  and  yon 
der  stripling/' 

"  Ay,  but  it  is  for  Philpotts ;  moreover,  yonder 
stripling  is  marvellous  handy  aboard  the  boat,  as 
you  will  see  when  we  shake  out  the  sails.'* 

Neville  spoke  no  more,  but  tramped  along, 
looking  well  to  his  footsteps,  for  he  too  found 
the  ground  wet  and  slippery  with  its  thin  glazing 
of  ice.  The  treacherous  Southern  winter  was  in 
one  of  its  relenting  moods,  and  the  morning  air, 
even  now  before  the  sun  was  fully  risen,  held  a 
hint  of  spring.  The  green  pines  sent  forth  their 
sweet  odor,  and  a  bird  fluttered  up  and  flapped 
his  bright  wings  full  in  Neville's  face. 

It  was  a  morning  to  give  a  man  courage  for 
meeting  life  or  for  leaving  it.  Neville  had  faced 
danger  and  death  too  often  to  be  wholly  absorbed 
in  his  own  fate,  and  now  interwoven  with  his  dull 
web  of  despair  was  a  bright  thread  of  enjoyment 
of  the  scene  around  him. 

Never  will  any  romancer  truly  tell  the  story 
of  a  man's  inner  life  till  he  takes  cognizance  of 
the  many  trains  of  thought,  gay  and  sombre, 
that  can  slide  on  side  by  side,  neither  wholly  rilling 
nor  dominating  the  mind. 

The  tingling  air,  the  slant  sunshine,  and  the 
sense  of  unknown  adventure  awaiting  him  raised 
Neville's  spirits,  so  that  as  a  turn  of  the  path 
brought  the  ketch  in  sight  he  found  himself  hum- 

204 


A  Change  of  Venue 

ming  the  refrain  of  a  song,  —  a  song  he  had  first 
heard  rippling  from  the  lips  of  Elinor  Calvert, 
oh,  how  many  years  ago,  among  the  green  fields 
of  Somerset,  — 

"  Greensleeves  was  all  my  joy, 
Greensleeves  was  my  delight, 
Greensleeves  was  my  heart  of  gold, 
Who  but  Lady  Greensleeves  ?  " 

The  words  called  up  a  vision  of  Elinor  as 
he  had  seen  her  at  eighteen  tripping  along 
the  forest  paths  of  the  Somerset  woods,  her 
robe  as  green  as  Maid  Marian's  and  her  floating 
sleeves  catching  ever  and  anon  on  bush  or  briar, 
—  a  blessed  chance  which  gave  her  lover  oppor 
tunity  to  bend  over  it  and  touch  it  with  his  lips 
whilst  disentangling  it  slowly  —  oh,  so  slowly! 
And  again  he  saw  her  in  a  dress  of  a  similar 
fashion  there  in  the  hall  of  St.  Gabriel's,  and 
again  she  smiled  upon  him,  and  those  warm 
slender  fingers  rested  in  his,  and  those  perfect 
eyes  unveiled  their  tender  depths  before  his 
gaze.  To  have  come  so  near  and  then  to  have 
lost  —  oh,  it  was  unbearable  !  —  and  he  kicked 
viciously  at  the  innocent  root  of  a  tree  in  his 
path. 

As  the  last  words  left  his  lips,  his  mood  sank 
to  despair  again. 

"  Look  alive  there,  sir !  Jump  aboard,  Phil- 
205 


Sir  Christopher 

potts,  and  loosen  that  forward  sheet !  Sir  Chris 
topher,  step  on  that  board  and  you  '11  reach  the 
stern  easy  !  That's  your  seat  by  the  helm." 

"  You  are  shivering,"  said  the  younger  man, 
who  had  scarcely  spoken  till  now.  "  Take  my 
cloak." 

"  No,  no,"  reproved  his  elder,  "  not  too  much 
softness  to  the  Governor's  prisoner  !  He  '11  do 
very  well  for  a  while  yet  with  his  jerkin  and 
doublet.  Come  on  !  we  need  your  help  there 
forward." 

"  Let  me  thank  you  for  the  intention  at  least 
before  you  go,"  said  Neville,  ignoring  the  churl 
ish  speech  of  the  older  man  and  addressing 
himself  to  the  one  in  purple.  "  A  kind  word 
may  carry  more  warmth  than  a  purple  cloak." 
Then  he  sank  back,  gazing  out  over  the  water, 
while  the  sails  were  raised  and  the  ropes  cast  off 
from  the  wharf,  which  slowly  receded  as  the 
bright  sunrise-tinted  water  slipped  along  the 
keel,  and  the  brisk  little  waves  slapped  the  side 
of  the  ketch  as  if  daring  her  to  a  game  of  tag. 

They  were  out  in  the  river  now.  The  Potomac 
spread  far  to  the  southward  as  far  as  eye  could 
reach,  with  vague  hints  of  low  hills  so  near  the 
hue  of  the  water  that  one  could  scarce  tell  where 
water  ended  and  land  began,  or  where  the  land 
again  slipped  into  the  misty  blueness  of  the 
western  sky. 

206 


A  Change  of  Venue 

Neville  strained  his  eyes  to  catch  sight  of  a 
particular  point  as  they  passed  it,  — a  point  rising 
a  little  from  the  water  and  crowned  with  a  thick 
growth  of  primeval  forest.  There  lay  Robin 
Hood's  Barn,  and  the  wide  acres  of  Cecil's 
Manor  stretched  peacefully  along  the  river  just 
where  it  widened  into  the  bay. 

There  is  a  peculiar  irony  in  watching  in  our 
unhappiness  the  scenes  associated  with  hours  of 
hope  and  joy.  Neville  smiled  bitterly  as  he 
contrasted  what  might  have  been  with  what  was. 
Then  he  reproached  himself  for  a  coward  and  a 
faint  heart  that  was  ready  to  yield  to  the  first 
buffet  of  Fate.  He  resolved  to  turn  his  mind 
from  gloomy  thoughts  and  find  comfort  in  the 
cheerfulness  around  him. 

The  ketch  was  running  free  with  all  sails 
spread  and  looked  like  a  big  white  bird  skimming 
the  surface.  It  was  a  sight  to  cheer  the  heart  of 
the  most  downcast,  hut  more  cheering  still  was  the 
smell  of  breakfast  a-cooking  in  the  cabin,  and 
right  willingly  did  Neville  respond  to  the  call 
and  seat  himself  at  the  rude  board  in  the  tiny 
cabin,  which,  rude  as  it  was,  proved  a  welcome 
shelter  from  the  fresh  wind  blowing  outside. 

"  I  reckon,"  he  said,  looking  with  a  smile  at 
his  captors, "  that  I  am  to  be  allowed  the  freedom 
of  my  arms  while  eating  unless  ye  do  intend  to 
feed  me  with  a  pap  spoon  like  an  infant." 

207' 


Sir  Christopher 

"  All  in  good  time,  Sir  Christopher."  It 
seemed  to  be  always  the  tall  man  who  spoke. 

"  Curse  his  ready  tongue  !  Why  will  he  never 
give  the  other  fellow  a  chance  ?  "  thought  Neville, 
but  held  his  peace  while  the  spokesman  con 
tinued,  — 

"  Before  we  remove  the  rope  we  want  your 
oath  to  two  things.  First,  that  you  will  make 
no  effort  to  escape.  Second,  that  you  will  cheer 
fully  obey  our  orders  and  those,  whatever  they 
may  be,  in  this  sealed  paper." 

"  A  largish  contract ;  but  for  the  first  I  can 
well  afford  to  promise,  since  having  put  aside 
the  chance  of  escape  when  'twas  easy,  I  am  not 
like  to  undertake  it  now  'tis  become  well-nigh 
impossible.  I  'm  neither  whale  nor  Jonah  that  I 
should  set  out  to  swim  a  matter  of  a  dozen  miles 
to  land ;  and  as  for  running  away,  I  am  bound  to 
see  this  trial  to  a  finish  and  try  what  Maryland 
law  for  Protestants  is." 

Here  Philpotts  was  guilty  of  the  indiscretion 
of  sighing.  Neville,  fearing  he  would  show  him 
self  too  much  the  prisoner's  friend  for  his  own 
good,  turned  upon  him  with  simulated  fierceness. 

"  Sirrah,  I  will  have  none  of  your  officious 
sighing  as  if  I  were  already  as  good  as  a  dead 
man.  Keep  your  breath  to  cool  your  porridge. 
When  I  want  it  I  '11  ask  for  it. 

"  Now,"  turning  again  to  his  interlocutor,  "  as 
208 


A  Change  of  Venue 

for  the  second  clause,  you  ask  a  trifle  too  much. 
As  much  of  your  will  as  I  must  obey  I  shall,  and 
with  three  against  one  to  enforce  it  that  share 
seems  likely  to  be  well-nigh  the  whole  ;  but  as 
to  the  cheerfulness  with  which  I  meet  it,  that  must 
needs  depend  on  God  and  my  own  mind.  But 
make  haste  ere  those  cakes  be  cold  to  unbind  me 
and  let  me  have  at  them  !  " 

"  Are  you  satisfied  with  the  prisoner's  prom 
ise  ?  " 

The  other  two  men  nodded,  and  Philpotts 
went  on  deck  again.  The  stripling  began  in  a 
trice  to  undo  the  ropes  which  bound  Neville, 
whereupon  he  fell  to  and  made  as  hearty  a  break 
fast  as  ever  he  laid  in  on  firm  land  with  high 
hopes  and  bright  prospects. 

When  they  were  come  out  of  the  cabin  again, 
he  noticed  that  the  boat  had  changed  her  course 
and  was  running  with  a  beam  wind. 

"Why,  how's  this?"  he  asked  of  Philpotts 
as  he  took  his  seat  once  more  by  the  stern. 
"  Surely  this  ketch  is  not  laying  her  course  for 
St.  Mary's." 

"  Do  not  ask  me,  sir !  I  'm  not  the  captain 
of  this  infernal  ketch.  In  truth,  I  'm  no  sailor 
at  all,  and  would  be  right  glad  if  I  could  be  set 
ashore  this  minute." 

Neville  could  have  laughed  as  he  saw  the 
green  and  yellow  melancholy  that  too  surely  tells 

209 


Sir  Christopher 

the  story  of  coming  sea-sickness,  but  pity  ruled 
and  he  said  sympathetically,  "  Go  you  below,  and 
I  '11  keep  the  helm  till  you  have  braced  your 
insides  with  some  hot  meat  and  drink." 

"  How  's  this  ?  "  cried  the  tall  man,  coming  on 
deck  just  as  Neville  reached  for  the  tiller. 
"  Mutiny  already  !  Troth,  I  have  a  pair  of  irons 
below,  and  you  shall  be  clapped  in  them  if  I  see 
you  move  toward  the  tiller  again.  Philpotcs, 
give  me  the  helm  and  go  below  !  " 

Neville  shrugged  his  shoulders,  but  refrained 
from  speech.  He  withdrew  his  outstretched  hand, 
pulled  his  hat  over  his  eyes,  and  sat  gazing  over 
the  sail  at  the  blue  distance  which  seemed  of  a 
sudden  peopled  with  all  the  friends  of  a  lifetime. 
He  could  see  his  father  and  mother  seated  by  the 
great  stone  fireplace  at  Frome  Hall,  the  Irish 
setter  with  his  head  on  his  master's  knee.  Yes, 
and  there  in  her  own  little  chair,  the  tiny  Peggy, 
with  rebellious  curls  shaken  back  every  now  and 
again  from  the  bright  eyes  beneath  them,  and 
then  the  quick  lighting  up  of  the  face,  the  lean 
ing  forward  of  the  little  figure  as  Christopher 
himself  entered  the  room  with  his  game-bag  over 
his  shoulder,  the  eager  peep  into  the  bag,  and  the 
jumping  up  .and  down  with  delight  as  she  counted 
the  tale  of  the  day's  success. 

Perhaps  he  had  scarcely  realized  in  those  days 
how  much  that  little  sister's  adoring  love  had 

210 


A  Change  of  Venue 

meant  to  him.  But  now  it  all  came  back  with 
a  swift  stab.  Oh,  to  take  her  in  his  arms  once 
more,  to  tell  her  how  he  felt  to  the  heart's  core 
her  loyalty  and  devotion !  Why  do  these  impulses 
so  often  come  too  late  to  all  of  us  ? 

As  Neville  withdrew  his  gaze  from  the  water 
to  the  deck,  the  hallucination  of  familiar  figures 
followed  him.  There  close  at  his  elbow  was  the 
dear  round  face  with  its  roguish  dimples  and  mis 
chievous  eyes,  not  cast  down  and  swollen  with 
crying  as  he  had  seen  them  last,  but  full  of  life 
and  light,  and  her  dear  voice  was  murmuring  in 
his  ear, — 

"  Kit,  my  darling  brother,  I  am  here.  Are 
you  glad?  " 

Neville  brushed  his  arm  across  his  eyes  :  the 
figure  was  too  real.  It  savored  of  madness,  but 
it  would  not  move.  When  he  opened  his  eyes 
again,  there  it  stood,  more  solid  than  ever,  but 
now  the  tears  were  rising  in  the  eyes,  and  the 
hands  were  stretched  out  softly  toward  him. 

"  Where  am  I  ?  What  does  it  mean  ?  "  Chris 
topher  murmured. 

"  It  means,"  said  the  senior  escort,  removing 
his  hat,  and  revealing  the  dark  curls  of  Romney 
Huntoon,  "  that  we  have  decided  upon  a  change 
of  venue  for  your  case,  and  have  arranged  to 
remove  the  jurisdiction  to  Romney  Hall,  York 
County,  Virginia/' 


211 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Bless  my  soul !  "  cried  Philpotts,  from  the 
companionway  ;  "  he  Js  told  him,  the  mean  devil, 
and  me  not  there  to  see  the  fun — me,  that's 
beaten  any  play  actor  in  the  old  country  at  de 
ceiving  tricks.  Sir  Christopher,  the  Captain  and 
crew  of  the  ketch  Lady  Betty  are  at  your  ser 
vice,  and  it 's  no  more  of  prison  bars  we  '11  hear 
after  we  touch  Protestant  Virginia." 

"  Peggy,  Peggy,  what  have  you  done  ?  "  ex 
claimed  her  brother,  bending  over  her  brown 
head  as  it  lay  on  his  breast,  as  she  knelt  close 
beside  him. 

"  Done  ?  We  have  saved  you  from  prison, 
to  be  sure.  He  and  I  and  good  Master  Phil- 
potts,  that  we  thought  to  outwit  and  found  full 
ready  to  help  us.  And  this  is  Master  Huntoon's 
boat  all  ready  loaded  for  Romney.  He  brought 
it  round  yesterday  from  St.  Mary's.  He  's  rather 
clever,  that  Master  Huntoon,  though  he  keeps 
his  wits  mostly  for  great  occasions." 

"  Vastly  clever  of  you  all  three,  and  vastly  dull 
of  me  to  be  your  dupe  !  I  thank  you  all  heartily  ; 
and  now  will  you  please  put  your  helm  about, 
and  head  the  ketch  for  St.  Mary's  with  what 
speed  you  may  ?  " 

"Christopher!"  exclaimed  Peggy,  in  such  a 
heart-broken  voice  that  her  brother  clasped  her 
closer  than  ever  as  he  said,  — 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  I  appreciate  what  you  have 

212 


A  Change  of  Venue 

all  done,  and  risked  for  me,  but  I  cannot  run 
away." 

"  Then  you  care  nothing  for  me  compared 
with  your  flimsy  honor." 

"  Nay,  *t  is  partly  that  I  care  so  much  for  you 
that  I  must  have  a  care  of  this  flimsy  honor, 
which  is  yours  as  well  as  mine.  Philpotts,  will 
you  kindly  put  about  that  helm  ?  " 

Philpotts  made  a  motion  to  obey  ;  but  Hun- 
toon  stopped  him  with  a  movement  of  his  hand. 

"  Listen,  Sir  Christopher,  I  pray  you,"  he  said. 
"  Of  course  I  am  a  younger  man,  and  you  may 
resent  my  counselling  you ;  but  remember,  I 
love  your  sister,  and  her  honor  and  yours  are 
no  less  dear  to  me  than  to  you.  I  see  the  situa 
tion  more  clearly  as  a  looker-on,  and  this  is  how 
it  looks  to  me.  There  is  no  hope  here  and  now 
of  a  fair  trial.  The  Catholics  are  hot  for  the 
punishment  of  the  murderer  of  a  priest,  and  Cal- 
vert  and  Brent  have  already  angered  them  by  the 
leniency  they  have  shown  to  Protestants.  Give 
the  matter  but  time  to  cool,  and  make  sure  of  a 
fair  hearing.  That  is  all  I  ask." 

Neville  sat  silent  with  his  head  bowed  on  his 
hands  for  an  instant,  then  he  spoke  low  but 
firmly,  — 

"  Go  !  I  must  have  time  to  think.  Go  you  all 
below  and  give  me  the  helm !  When  I  have 
made  up  my  mind,  I  will  summon  you,  and  my 

213 


Sir  Christopher 

decision  must  stand.  You,  Huntoon,  must  give 
me  back  the  oath  I  swore  to  obey  you.  This 
matter  touches  none  so  close  as  me,  and  in  my 
hands  it  must  be  left.  Go  ! " 

Slowly  and  dejectedly  the  three  conspirators 
crept  into  the  cabin.  There  Romney  and  Peggy 
sat  silent  and  expectant  for  what  seemed  an 
eternity.  Ropes  creaked,  sails  flapped  on  deck. 
Who  could  say  what  was  passing?  At  length 
they  heard  a  cheerful  call  of  "All  hands  on 
deck  ! " 

They  rushed  up  the  companionway  and  saw 
Christopher  standing  at  the  helm,  his  hair  blown 
back  and  his  hand  grasping  the  helm,  the  tiller 
pushed  far  to  port,  and  the  ketch  standing  for 
St.  Mary's. 


214 


CHAPTER  XIV 

IN    WHICH    FATE    TAKES    THE    HELM 

AS  the  three  conspirators  emerged  from  the 
companionway  one  after  another,  they 
made   a  forlorn   picture  of  disappoint 
ment,  so  chapfallen  were  the  faces  of  all.     Phil- 
potts  stood  still,  his  shaggy  eyebrows  drawn  into 
a  frown,   and  under   them   a    pair   of   eyes   that 
threatened  resistance.     'Twas  as  if  Sancho  Panza 
had  come  to  the  end  of  his  patience  with  Don 
Quixote,  and  thought  it  time  that  common-sense 
took  control  for  the  good  of  all  concerned. 

Romney  twisted  his  cap  and  looked  at  Peggy, 
who  bit  her  lips  to  keep  back  the  tears  which,  in 
spite  of  her  will,  were  gathering  in  her  eyes,  and 
standing  large  on  the  fringe  of  her  lashes. 

As  Christopher  watched  her,  he  felt  his  courage 
ebbing  so  fast  that  he  must  either  yield  or  smile. 
He  chose  the  latter. 

"Troth,"  cried  he,  "'tis  as  though  you  were 
condemned  criminals  and  I  the  judge.  For  hav 
ing  connived  at  the  escape  of  a  prisoner,  I  do 
sentence  you  to  a  happy  life  forever  after,  but  in 

215 


Sir  Christopher 

the  present  case  to  be  balked  of  your  good  intent. 
Wherefore  I  am  bound  for  St.  Mary's,  there  to 
surrender  myself  to  Sheriff  Ellyson  ;  but  'tis  no 
part  of  my  plan  to  give  you  up  too.  So  if  you 
are  minded  to  risk  the  trip  across  the  bay  without 
yonder  shallop  bobbing  along  behind  us  like  an 
empty  cork,  I  Ml  e'en  borrow  it,  when  we  are 
within  a  mile  of  the  town  and  then  —  "  here  he 
paused  and  swallowed  hard  for  a  minute,  "  then, 
tried  friends  and  true,  we  Ml  say  good-bye  for  a 
while  and  you  must  continue  on  your  way." 

<c  Let  them  go,  then,  since  thou  wilt  have  it 
so,  and  we  will  make  our  way  safe  to  St.  Mary's, 
thou  and  I." 

It  was  Peggy  who  spoke,  coming  close  to  her 
brother  and  looking  up  at  him  with  unwavering 
love  in  her  eyes. 

"  Nay,  nay,  little  sister,"  said  Christopher, 
gathering  her  soft  hand  into  his.  "  That  will 
not  content  me  neither.  Thou  art  well-nigh  a 
part  of  myself,  and  it  will  content  me  much, 
whatever  betides,  to  feel  that  one  part  at  least  is 
happy.  I  will  not  have  thee  go  back  where  thou 
must  be  made  wretched  by  hearing  hard  words  of 
thy  brother,  and  be  looked  down  upon  by  all. 
Huntoon,  thou  hast  in  right  manful  fashion 
declared  thy  love  for  my  sister  Margaret  here.  I 
venture  not  to  give,  her  answer.  That  must  thou 
win  from  her  thyself,  and  perchance  't  is  not 

216 


In  Which  Fate  Takes  the  Helm 

yet  ready  for  the  giving;  but  I  trust  her  in  thy 
keeping.  Take  her  back  to  thy  mother !  She 
will,  I  know,  receive  her  tenderly,  for  I  am 
familiar  with  the  repute  of  Mistress  Huntoon's 
hospitality." 

Huntoon  came  swiftly  forward  and  grasped 
Neville's  other  hand,  which  released  its  hold  on 
the  tiller  as  Philpotts  took  the  helm.  Tears 
stood  in  the  lad's  eyes. 

"  Be  sure,"  he  said,  "  that  your  sister  shall  be 
treated  with  that  love  and  reverence  which  are 
her  due,  nor  shall  she  be  hurried  to  any  decision 
she  might  after  regret.  To  my  mother  she  will 
be  dear  as  a  daughter  of  her  own." 

Men  are  prone  to  believe  in  a  family  welcome 
to  their  loves  as  warm  as  their  own.  It  does  not 
always  fall  out  according  to  expectation,  but 
Romney  Huntoon  knew  his  mother's  heart,  which 
was  soft  to  a  folly,  especially  to  young  and  un 
happy  lovers ;  she  herself  having  suffered  much, 
'twas  said,  in  her  youth. 

"  'T  is  well,"  said  Neville,  clasping  Huntoon's 
hand  on  his  right  almost  as  firmly  as  he  held  his 
sister's  on  the  other  side.  "  Thou  art  a  man  after 
my  own  heart;  and  if  thou  dost  win  this  little 
sister  of  mine,  be  tender,  be  gentle  to  her  whim 
sies,  of  which  she  hath  a  full  assortment ;  but 
keep  the  whip  hand,  my  friend,  keep  the  whip 
hand  !  And  now  one  more  charge  I  pray  thee 

217 


Sir  Christopher 

accept  for  my  sake.  This  good  Master  Phil- 
potts,  —  he  is  not  made  for  a  roving  life,  as  his 
sea-sickness  but  now  did  bear  witness,  yet  hath 
he  without  a  murmur  left  farm  and  implements 
and  all  means  of  earning  a  livelihood  to  help  me 
out  of  this  hard  place." 

"  Yes,  and  if  thou  wert  a  wiser  man,  thou 
wouldst  stay  helped  and  not  go  throwing  thyself 
back  into  the  pit  from  which  we  ha'  digged  you." 

"  Have  thy  fling,  good  friend  Philpotts  !  Hav 
ing  never  laid  claim  to  wisdom,  I  am  not  over 
sensitive  to  the  charge  of  lacking  it ;  but  what  I 
would  say  to  Master  Huntoon  was  this,  that  if 
my  lands  at  home  in  England  be  not  confiscate, 
I  do  intend  them  as  a  dowry  for  my  sister.  I 
would  counsel  that  they  be  sold  and  land  taken 
up  in  Virginia,  where  Philpotts  may  have  a  farm 
and  implements  as  many  as  he  left  and  whatso 
ever  more  is  needed." 

Philpotts  tried  to  speak,  but  could  not.  The 
tears  choked  him.  He  gulped  and  bent  over  the 
tiller.  Peggy,  too,  was  crying  hard,  and  Huntoon 
sat  with  steady  gaze  fixed  upon  Christopher. 

The  silence  that  fell  upon  the  little  group  con 
tinued  long.  So  much  must  be  said  if  that  silence 
were  once  broken  !  So  bowed  down  were  their 
hearts  that  it  seemed  quite  natural  that  the  sun 
shine  should  fade  out  of  the  sky  and  a  universal 
grayness  slowly  spread  itself  over  the  sea. 

218 


In  Which  Fate  Takes  the  Helm 

Philpotts  was  first  to  speak.  "  Look  yonder, 
Captain !  "  he  said,  pointing  Huntoon  to  the 
eastward;  "is  that  yonder  Watkins  Point  or  a 
bank  of  fog  ?  " 

"That's  the  Point.  No,  it  cannot  be  the 
Point  either,  —  't  is  too  far  south  for  that;  besides, 
it  looms  as  we  look.  It  is  drawing  nearer,  and 
the  fogs  do  drift  in  with  marvellous  quickness  in 
these  waters.  Give  me  the  helm  !  " 

"'Tis  unlucky,"  murmured  Neville,  "for  'tis 
not  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  in  the  brightest 
weather  to  make  one  's  way  past  all  these  head 
lands,  they  are  so  much  alike.  What's  that 
craft  yonder  by  the  wooded  point  ?  " 

Huntoon  made  a  glass  of  his  two  hands. 
"  She  hath  the  look  of  a  packet  sloop  outward 
bound,  somewhat  heavy  laden  too,  for  she  lies 
low  in  the  water  and  goes  slowly  with  a  fair 
wind." 

"  How  far  away  is  she  ?  " 

"  A  matter  of  a  mile,  I  should  say." 

"  Ay,"  put  in  Philpotts,  "  and  she  hath  seen 
the  fog  too,  and  is  setting  all  sail  to  make  what 
way  she  can  before  it  strikes  her." 

The  air  grew  colder  as  the  sky  clouded,  and 
Huntoon  brought  Peggy's  red  cape  from  below 
and  wrapped  it  close  about  her.  She  thanked 
him  with  a  smile  that  he  thought  the  sweetest 
and  the  saddest  thing  he  had  ever  seen. 

219 


Sir  Christopher 

The  fog  was  closing  in  on  them  now,  and  the 
wind  dropped  before  it.  The  rail  dripped  with 
the  chill  dampness,  and  the  sails  flapped  heavily 
as  they  swung  over  the  deck  whenever  the  vessel 
changed  her  course. 

"  Peggy  dear,  wilt  thou  not  go  below  and  keep 
warm  ?  "  said  Christopher's  voice. 

"Nay,  let  me  stay  by  thee  whilst  I  can;  and, 
Kit,  if  I  obey  thee  in  this,  mind,  't  is  only  that  I 
may  help  thee  more.  Rornney  —  Master  Hun- 
toon  —  hath  friends  in  the  colony  who  are  sure 
to  sift  this  matter  to  the  last.  And  it  will  go 
hard  but  we  find  some  way  to  bring  thee  aid  and 
comfort  yet." 

"  Philpotts,  can  you  see  how  we  are  heading  ?  " 

"  No,  faith,  Master  Huntoon,  no  more  than  if 
I  were  blindfold.  The  wind  is  dead  ahead  now  ; 
but  whether  it  hath  shifted  or  the  boat  hath  run 
off  its  course,  I  know  not." 

"  Hearken  !  "  cried  Peggy,  putting  her  hand  to 
her  ear.  "  Did  ye  hear  no  noise  ?  Methought 
I  caught  a  sound  as  of  a  horn  or  a  distant  bell. 
Perchance  't  was  the  church  bell  ringing  for  noon 
day  prayers.  I  heard  them  telling  of  some  saint's 
day  celebrated  to-day." 

All  the  men  stood  listening.  Neville  rose  and 
running  along  the  deck  climbed  to  the  bowsprit 
to  listen  again.  Suddenly  he  cried  out  at  the  top 
of  his  voice,  "  Boat  ahoy  !  Ahoy  there  !  " 

220 


In  Which  Fate  Takes  the  Helm 

Too  late  !  The  three  huddled  together  in  the 
stern  were  aware  of  a  large  vessel  looming  up 
and  up  above  them,  rising  with  the  rising  wave, 
and  then  lunging  forward  full  upon  The  Lady 
Betty.  Huntoon  clasped  Peggy  in  his  arms  as 
though  he  could  shield  her  thus  from  the  inevi 
table  crash.  Philpotts  dropped  the  helm  and 
rushed  forward  to  drag  back  Neville.  Again  too 
late.  The  two  boats  met  with  a  shock. 

By  good  luck  when  Philpotts  dropped  the 
helm,  The  Lady  Betty  had  veered  away  from 
the  larger  vessel,  so  that  the  packet's  bowsprit, 
having  crashed  against  her,  bumped  along  against 
the  side,  knocking  away  rail  and  stanchion,  and 
staving  a  hole  in  her,  deep  and  dangerous  but  not 
instantly  fatal.  For  one  instant  all  drew  a  breath 
of  relief  at  the  deadly  peril  passed.  Then,  to 
their  dismay,  they  heard  Philpotts  crying  out, 
"  He  's  overboard  !  The  bowsprit  hit  him  !  " 

"Overboard!"  cried  Peggy;  "but  he  is  a 
famous  swimmer,  surely  he  can  reach  the  boat." 

Even  as  she  spoke,  something  white  rose  to 
the  surface  and  sank  again,  and  Peggy  knew  it 
for  Christopher's  face  with  death  in  it,  and  but 
for  Romney's  strong  arm  around  her,  she,  too, 
would  have  thrown  herself  into  that  cold  grave. 

"  Let  me  go  to  him  ! "  she  shrieked  aloud  in 
her  anguish  of  soul.  "  O  Kit !  Dead  !  Dead  !  " 

The  words  seemed   to  fall  dully  on  the  sur- 

221 


Sir  Christopher 

rounding  wall  of  fog.  No  sound  ;  not  even  an 
echo  answered.  Away  to  the  right  a  single  sail 
flitted  ghostlike,  showing  no  hull  -to  support  it. 
On  the  left  close  at  hand  loomed  the  packet 
which  had  wrought  so  much  harm. 

Save  for  these  the  waters  were  bare  of  life,  and 
the  girl  in  the  ketch  sat  looking  with  frozen  gaze, 
as  if  she  had  seen  the  Gorgon's  head,  at  that  spot 
unmoved  now  by  so  much  as  a  ripple,  that  silent 
grave  which  had  opened  and  closed  again  over  a 
life  precious  to  her  beyond  aught  else  that  earth 
held. 

As  she  gazed,  she  was  seized  by  a  sudden  mad 
ness,  following  hard  upon  the  stony  stillness. 

"  I  will  go  !  I  will  !  "  she  screamed,  struggling 
with  Romney's  grasp,  which  held  like  steel.  She 
was  as  powerless  in  that  clasp  as  a  bird  in  a 
gauntleted  hand. 

Of  her  sense  of  powerlessness  a  new  emotion 
was  born,  a  nameless  quivering  thing  that  nestled 
in  the  heart  of  her  desolation  and  in  that  moment 
of  deepest  despair  struck  a  peace. 


222 


CHAPTER   XV 

DIGITUS    DEI 

MUCH  ado  there  was  at  St.  Gabriel's 
when  it  was  found  that  the  door  of 
the  tobacco-house  stood  open,  and  the 
prisoner  was  gone.  All  the  more  exasperating 
was  it  when  it  proved  that  there  was  no  one  to 
be  blamed  or  held  responsible,  because  the  jailor 
was  gone  too. 

Each  member  of  the  household  took  the  news 
of  the  escape  differently. 

Cecil  jumped  for  joy.  Father  White  betook 
himself  to  solitude  and  prayer  in  his  oratory. 
Mary  Brent  made  few  comments,  but  went  about 
with  her  mouth  pursed  up  as  though  she  feared 
to  relax  the  muscles  lest  they  betray  her  into  rash 
words.  Her  light  lashes  too  were  cast  down  and 
her  eyes  carefully  discharged  of  all  expression. 

Such  silence  has  more  power  to  irritate  than 
reproaches  or  curses. 

Elinor  felt  this  irritation  so  keenly  that  she 
could  not  stay  in  the  house  with  her  cousin,  but 

223 


Sir  Christopher 

took  refuge  in  the  woods  beneath  the  calm  sky,  in 
that  silence  of  Nature  which  holds  only  balm  for 
wounded  hearts. 

Brent  too  thought  it  well  to  give  his  sister  a 
wide  berth.  His  own  irritation  found  vent  in  an 
honest  volley  of  oaths  directed  impartially  at 
himself  and  each  member  of  the  household  except 
perhaps  Ralph  Ingle,  to  whom  he  turned  for 
that  comfort  which  a  strong  and  autocratic  nature 
finds  in  a  pliant  one.  With  such  a  man  as  Brent, 
to  concur  is  to  conquer. 

Ingle  in  return  gave  him  sympathy  and  silence. 
Silences  differ  as  widely  as  speech,  and  Ingle's 
silence  was  no  more  like  that  of  Mary  Brent 
than  the  calm  of  a  sunny  day  is  like  the  electric 
stillness  preceding  storm.  Ingle's  silence  was 
full  of  delicate  suggestions  of  assent,  of  a  sym 
pathy  too  subtle  to  be  put  into  words,  of  com 
radeship  and  support  to  that  self-esteem  which 
just  now  felt  itself  sadly  shaken. 

No  wonder  his  company  was  desired  !  We 
succeed  with  others  as  we  comprehend  them. 
We  value  others  as  they  comprehend  us. 

Giles  Brent  was  a  man  of  action,  and  lost 
no  time  in  locking  and  double  barring  the  stable 
door  after  the  horse  was  stolen. 

Two  messengers  he  despatched  to  St.  Mary's 
to  learn,  if  they  could,  whether  any  news  had 
reached  the  town  of  Neville's  escape.  The  other 

224 


Digitus  Dei 

available  men  he  divided  into  parties  of  four,  and 
sent  them  to  scour  the  woods  in  all  directions. 
Then,  taking  Ralph  Ingle  with  him,  he  buckled 
on  his  sword,  lifted  two  guns  from  the  rack  in  the 
hall,  and  marched  grimly  down  the  little  path  to 
the  wharf. 

"You  have  a  keen  eye,  Ingle,  and  are  a  mari 
ner  born  and  bred.  Therefore  have  I  brought 
you  with  me,  for  it  seems  far  likelier  that  Neville 
has  made  his  escape  by  sea  than  by  land.  I  will 
take  the  helm,  and  do  you  go  before  the  mast 
and  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  any  small  boat, 
especially  one  that  may  seem  to  hug  the  wooded 
points  at  the  mouth  of  the  river.  " 

Ingle  ventured  a  few  words  by  way  of  conver 
sation,  but  found  his  companion  in  a  taciturn 
mood  and  not  to  be  drawn  into  conversation. 
Both  men  scanned  every  headland  and  inlet  till 
their  eyes  ached,  but  with  no  success,  till  at 
length  Ingle  called  out,  — 

"There's  a  ship  yonder,  —  a  packet,  I  should 
say,  from  the  size  and  build  of  her." 

"  Ay,  for  a  guess  't  is  Prescott's.  I  ordered 
him  from  St.  Mary's  yesterday  for  being  too 
much  hand  in  glove  with  that  scapegrace  brother 
of  thine." 

A  pained  look  crossed  Ralph  Ingle's  face. 

"Forgive  me!"  said  Brent,  who  had  a  soft 
heart  under  a  quick  temper.  "  Whatever  may  be 
15  225 


Sir  Christopher 

said  of  your  brother,  I  put  trust  in  you,  and  here 's 
my  hand  on  't." 

Ingle  did  not  note  the  outstretched  hand,  for 
his  eyes  were  fixed  on  something  beyond  the  ship, 
a  smaller  boat  making  for  St.  Mary's. 

"  Look !  "  he  said,  "  to  the  right  there,  to  the 
southward  of  Pine  Point  !  Damnation,  how  the 
fog  is  shutting  down  !  " 

Even  as  he  spoke  a  film  gathered  between 
him  and  the  two  boats,  —  a  film  deepening  into  a 
thick  veil  and  that  into  an  impenetrable,  impalpa 
ble  wall  of  fog. 

Brent  held  his  boat  straight  on  her  course. 
On,  on,  till  once  again  he  caught  the  outline  of 
the  packet  looming  close  at  hand.  Then  from 
the  other  side  he  heard  a  voice  which  he  recog 
nized  as  Neville's  shouting  cc  Boat  ahoy  !  "  Then 
a  crash  as  if  a  sea  monster  had  both  boats  and  were 
grinding  them  between  his  teeth.  A  rebound, 
and  then  another  crash,  and  above  the  noise  the 
voice  of  Philpotts  crying,  "  My  God !  He  's 
gone  ! "  and  a  woman's  voice  sobbing,  "  O  Kit ! 
Dead!  Dead!" 

"  Hard  alee !  "  shouted  Ingle  to  Brent. 
"  Hard  alee !  or  we  shall  be  in  the  coil  with 
the  rest;"  and  running  aft  he  threw  his  whole 
weight  on  the  tiller  just  in  time  to  shave  the 
packet.  They  swept  into  open  water,  and  the 
wind  bore  them  away  till  once  more  the  two  boats 

226 


Digitus  Dei 

looked   like    gray  phantoms   against   the  grayer 
sky. 

"  Well  done,  Ingle  !  But  for  your  quickness 
we  should  have  been  snarled  up  with  the  other 
boats.  Next  time  we  must  come  to  them  with 
more  caution." 

"  Why  take  the  risk  again  ?  Death  has  been 
before  us  in  claiming  our  prisoner." 

"  Ay,  but  his  jailor  and  the  accomplices  are 
yet  to  be  reckoned  with  if  Maryland  justice  is 
not  to  become  a  byword  and  a  hissing." 

"  Governor  Brent,"  Ingle  spoke  in  slow,  reluc 
tant  tones,  "  did  you  chance  to  read  the  name 
of  the  larger  packet  as  we  passed  ?  " 

"  Nay,  I  was  too  much  occupied  with  saving 
the  skin  of  my  own  boat.  Did  you  ?  " 

"  I  did." 

"And  the  name  —  " 

"  Was  The  Reformation" 

«  Ah ! " 

"  Yes,  and  I  saw  Dick  aboard  her  striding  up 
and  down  the  deck  in  a  fury,  swearing  like  the 
cutthroat  he  is." 

"  Yet  shall  he  not  hinder  me  from  the  per 
formance  of  my  duty.  No  man  shall  say  that 
Giles  Brent  is  a  coward." 

"  No  fear  that  any  man  will  ever  say  that. 
Let  none  have  cause  to  say  that  the  Lieutenant- 
General,  Admiral,  Chancellor,  Keeper  of  the 

227 


Sir  Christopher 

Great  Seal,  Chief  Captain,  Magistrate,  and  Com 
mander  of  the  Province  forgot  the  sacredness  of 
trust  involved  in  all  these  offices  and  ran  risks. 
Do  not  drive  me  to  say  what  risks  ;  but  believe 
me  when  I  say  that  I  know  my  brother  well,  and 
I  know  he  would  stop  at  nothing,  —  even  to  the 
carrying  off  of  an  officer  of  the  King.  He  is 
mad,  fairly  mad,  over  his  treatment  at  St.  Mary's 
yonder." 

Brent  frowned,  shook  his  head,  and  hesitated 
as  if  uncertain  what  course  to  pursue,  then  he 
gave  the  helm  to  Ingle  entirely,  saying, — 

"  You  are  right.  It  is  hard  to  draw  the  line 
betwixt  cowardice  and  caution  ;  but  in  Calvert's 
absence  I  have  no  right  to  run  risks." 

Still  in  the  distance  hovered  the  two  phantom 
ships  gray  against  the  universal  grayness,  yet 
dimly  discernible,  the  smaller  boat  settling  lower 
and  lower  like  some  despairing  animal  feeling 
death  near  at  hand  yet  struggling  to  the  last. 

"It  is  the  end,"  said  Ralph  Ingle.  "The 
man  is  drowned,  and  his  boat  is  sunk.  Whatever 
he  has  done,  he  has  made  the  fullest  atonement 
man  can  make." 

"Yes,"  said  Brent,  uncovering  his  head.  "I 
think  that  we  have  seen  the  end  of  this  unhappy 
business.  A  life  has  been  given  for  a  life.  The 
judgments  of  the  Lord  are  true  and  righteous 
altogether." 

228 


Digitus  Dei 

Ralph  Ingle  bowed  his  head  as  one  too  much 
moved  for  words. 

Silently  they  drifted  shoreward  and  still  silently 
clewed  up  the  sail  and  tied  the  boat  to  the  dock. 
Once  more  Brent  held  out  his  hand.  "You  have 
proved  yourself  a  tried  and  trusty  comrade  this 
day,  and  if  you  have  aught  to  ask  of  me,  be  sure 
I  stand  ready  to  grant  it." 

"  Nay,  nay,"  said  Ralph,  with  his  frank  smile, 
"  't  were  poor  comradeship  to  begin  with  asking 
of  favors  ;  besides,  there  is  naught  in  your  gift 
that  I  crave  unless  —  unless  —  " 

"  Out  with  it,  man  !  " 

"  Well,  then,  your  influence  with  your  kinswo 
man,  Mistress  Elinor  Calvert." 

Brent  started. 

"  I  never  dreamed  of  this,"  he  said. 

"  Nor  I,  on  my  faith,  till  I  was  so  deep  there 
was  no  turning  back.  She  is  one  of  those  wo 
men  that  to  love  once  is  to  love  always.  I  would 
do  anything  for  her,  —  sacrifice  my  life,  nay,  my 
soul  itself,  —  but  she  is  cold  as  the  ice  floating  in 
yonder  river." 

Giles  Brent's  face  grew  set  and  stern. 

"  I  can  well  believe  it,  for  I  fear  't  is  not  alone 
that  she  loves  you  not;  but  that  her  heart  has 
been  given  to  another  and  clings  but  the  closer, 
the  unworthier  she  finds  him." 

"  Then  it  was  Neville.  I  suspected  as  much. 
229 


Sir  Christopher 

But  now,  surely  now  that  he  is  dead,  there  may 
be  a  chance  for  me." 

"  My  friend,  you  little  know  Elinor  Calvert. 
She  has  made  this  murderer  into  a  saint,  and  she 
will  burn  candles  to  his  memory  and  say  masses 
for  his  soul  while  she  lives." 

"Hush!  is  this  not  she  coming  down  the 
path?" 

"  Ay,  go  you  round  through  the  underbrush 
and  leave  me  to  tell  her." 

So  advised,  Ingle  took  a  short  cut  through 
the  woods,  and  Brent,  walking  on  alone,  met 
Elinor  face  to  face. 

"  Good  morrow,  Cousin  !  " 

"  Would  it  were  a  good  morrow,  Giles  !  But 
that  can  scarce  be  till  we  are  good  ourselves  and 
credulous  of  good  in  others." 

"  I  have  no  time  to  play  with  words.  I 
am  come  from  stern  scenes  that  wring  men's 
souls." 

Elinor  turned  pale. 

"  Hast  thou  seen  him  ?  " 

"  By  him  signifying  Christopher  Neville,  1 
doubt  not.  Now  I  might  put  thee  off  by  saying 
I  have  not  seen  him,  as  in  a  sense  I  have  not ; 
yet  I  have  been  near  him  and  in  a  way  to  know 
his  fate,  which,  not  to  delay  ill  news  in  the  telling, 
is  death  by  drowning." 

Elinor  answered  not  a  word.  She  grew  deadly 
230 


Digitus  Dei 


white,  bowed  her  head,  and  turning  about  began 
to  walk  toward  the  house. 

Brent  would  not  have  been  surprised  to  see  her 
swoon  at  his  feet,  but  this  unnatural  calmness 
terrified  him. 

"  Whither  art  thou  bound  ?  "  he  asked,  catch 
ing  up  with  her. 

"  To  the  manor-house  —  there  to  say  a  prayer 
for  the  soul  of  him  that 's  gone,  then  to  pack 
my  belongings  and  Cecil's/' 

"  To  pack  ?  " 

"  Ay,  and  to  make  ready  for  our  departure  to 
St.  Mary's.  There  we  will  make  our  home  till 
we  can  betake  ourselves  to  Cecil  Manor.  The 
house  of  the  Brents  can  never  again  be  shelter  for 
me  or  mine." 

"  Elinor  !     Have  I  deserved  this  ?  " 

"  Thou  hast  been  a  kind  kinsman  to  me,  Giles, 
and  for  the  past  I  thank  thee ;  but  thou  art  a 
hard  man,  and  my  heart  is  bitter  against  thee  for 
the  part  thou  hast  played  in  driving  an  innocent 
man  to  his  death." 

"  I  drive  the  poltroon!  "  muttered  Brent.  "Was 
he  not  drowned  in  a  cowardly  attempt  to  escape 
from  a  trial  he  dared  not  face  P " 

"  No  !  "  flamed  Elinor. 

"  Thou  dost  speak  as  one  who  knows.  Per 
haps  thou  hast  information.  How  canst  thou 

talk  so  bold  ?  " 

231 


Sir  Christopher 

"  I  talk  so  bold  because  I  do  know  —  alas  ! 
none  better.  I  —  I  tempted  him  —  the  other 
night  —  I  promised  him  aid  and  begged  him  to 
escape,  and  -he  would  not.  He  scorned  the  cow 
ardice  and  vowed  he  would  stand  his  trial  and 
abide  by  the  result." 

<c  Some  other  must  have  had  more  influence 
with  him,  then,  for  there  was  a  woman's  voice  in 
the  boat  when  he  sank." 

"  Bless  her  !  "  cried  Elinor,  "  whoever  she  was, 
that  did  plan  his  safety  —  but  hold.  I  know 
who  it  was,  —  his  sister  Peggy,  —  who,  as  we 
thought,  went  back  to  St.  Mary's  yesterday ; 
whether  he  be  taken  with  or  against  his  will,  she 
is  with  him.  God  has  been  kind  to  her,  but  she 
deserved  it,  for  she  was  stanch  and  true.  She 
has  her  deserts,  and  I  had  mine.  'T  was  God's 
truth  she  spoke  when  she  told  me  1  had  been 
false,  and  vowed  she  never  wished  to  see  my  face 
again.  I  know  how  she  felt,  for  I  feel  it  now 
toward  thee.  Ay,  stand  back,  Giles,  and  hear  my 
vow :  Never  again  after  this  day  will  I  hold 
converse  with  thee  or  remember  that  there  is  a 
bond  of  kinship  between  us  till  thou  shalt  kneel 
as  I  have  knelt  in  contrition  and  shame  for  the 
part  thou  hast  played." 

"  These  are  wild  vows,  Elinor,  and  will  be  re 
pented  when  thou  dost  consider  them.  I  would 
be  well-nigh  as  glad  as  thou  to  see  Christopher 

232 


Digitus  Dei 

Neville  acquitted  of  the  charge  of  this  terrible 
crime.  To  say  truth,  against  all  the  evidence, 
against  reason  itself,  I  cherished  faint  hope  that 
something  might  be  unearthed  even  yet  to  show 
us  that  we  had  all  been  mistaken,  but  now  that 
he  hath  skulked  away  under  cover  of  darkness  — 
why,  't  is  the  same  as  a  confession." 

"  Ay,  and  for  that  reason  he  has  never  done  it. 
Never  —  never  —  never !  'T  is  not  in  his 
nature,  not  near  so  much  as  to  have  done  the 
murder  of  which  he  stands  accused.  Giles,  'tis 
but  a  little  while  since  thou  didst  urge  my  taking 
Christopher  Neville  for  my  tenant  yonder  at 
Cecil  Manor ;  and  why  ?  Because,  thou  saidst,  he 
was  the  boldest  and  the  truest  and  the  faithfullest 
man  in  Maryland.  So  he  was  and  is.  Thinkst 
thou  a  man's  soul  is  changed  in  a  day  or  two  days 
or  a  week  ?  Fie  !  thou  hast  not  enough  knowl 
edge  of  human  nature  to  be  ruler  of  a  county, 
much  less  a  commonwealth." 

Brent  drew  his  brows  together  impatiently. 

"  'T  is  all  very  well  to  rail  like  that,  but  it 
proves  nothing.  He  is  gone.  That  is  a  fact  not  to 
be  gainsaid.  What  is  it,  then,  but  jail-breaking  ?  " 

"  Ay,  but  he  may  not  have  gone  of  his  free 
will." 

"  A  likely  story.     Who,  then,  hath  taken  him 

by  force  ?  " 

"  How  do  I  know  ?      Some  that  have  reason 


233 


Sir  Christopher 

to  profit  by  his  accusation,  yet  fear  to  press  the 
trial  to  the  end.  Perchance  the  fathers  of  St. 
Inigo's." 

Giles  Brent  was  furious,  all  the  more  that  the 
same  possibility  had  been  floating  dimly  in  his 
own  mind.  He  answered  coldly, — 

"  Since  thou  art  so  lost  to  all  sense  of  dignity 
and  decency  in  the  cause  of  thy  lover  as  to  accuse 
Holy  Church  herself  rather  than  admit  what  one 
who  runs  may  read,  that  he  hath  done  a  dastardly 
deed  and  then  hath  run  away  to  escape  the  con 
sequences,  why,  I  will  waste  neither  argument  nor 
entreaty,  but  when  the  day  comes  that  all  is  made 
clear,  thou  wilt  have  a  heavy  account  to  settle." 

"  I  know  not  how  it  may  be  in  the  future 
of  this  world,  Giles ;  but  when  the  day  comes 
that  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  are  laid  open, 
I  feel  sure  as  that  I  stand  here  that  Christopher 
Neville  will  have  naught  to  fear.  For  myself 
my  shame  will  be  that  I  loved  not  too  much,  but 
too  little.  To  love  cautiously  is  not  to  love  at 
all.  For  thee,  thy  punishment  —  the  hardest,  I 
believe,  for  a  just  man  —  shall  be  to  see  too  late 
the  wrong  thou  hast  done  ;  the  friendship  light 
est  held  where  it  should  have  been  strongest,  the 
faith  withheld  where  the  hand  should  have  been 
outstretched  in  aid,  the  life  sacrificed  that  should 
have  been  a  bulwark  to  the  state, — all  this  will 
be  laid  at  thy  door  —  " 

234 


Digitus  Dei 

Then, — with  a  sudden  break,  —  "God  for 
give  me  !  What  a  hypocrite  I  am  !  My  sin  is 
heavier  than  thine.  I  knew  him,  I.  loved  him, 
and  I  failed  him.  Death  holds  no  bitterness  like 
this." 

Without    another    word    she    turned    and   left 

him. 

Brent  fell  back,  awed  by  the  force  of  her  pas 
sion,  and  stood  still  watching  her  as  she  swept 
on,  a  tall  vision  of  Nemesis,  vague  and  gray 
in  the  mist  that  clung  about  the  long  folds  of  her 
cloak.  On  she  walked,  slowly  at  first,  then  faster 
and  faster  till  she  was  almost  running.  At  the 
third  bend  of  the  path  a  man  slipped  out  from 
behind  the  twisted  pine,  and  fell  in  with  her  step 
so  naturally  that  she  was  scarcely  conscious  of  his 
companionship. 

There  was  a  softness  in  Ralph  Ingle's  silence, 
a  soothing  quality  in  his  sympathy  that  made 
itself  felt.  Elinor's  gait  slowed,  and  she  removed 
the  hands  that  had  been  pressed  to  her  temples, 
as  if  to  quiet  the  intolerable  throbbing  pain. 

"  Pity  me  !  "  —  Ralph  Ingle  spoke  low. 

"  I  pity  thee  !  Have  I  room  in  my  heart  for 
pity  of  any  save  myself?" 

"  Thou  shouldst  have  for  one  more  miserable 
than  thou." 

"That  cannot  be  ;  and  why  shouldst  thou  need 

pity  ?  " 

235 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Because  thou  art  sorrowful,  and  I  can  give 
thee  no  help.  Is  not  that  reason  enough  ?  " 

Elinor  stopped  and  looked  at  him  with  wide, 
half-seeing  eyes,  striving  to  force  herself  to  put 
aside  her  own  trouble  enough  to  realize  that  of 
another. 

"  Do  not !  "  she  cried,  stretching  out  defensive 
hands,  "  do  not  tell  me  that  I  have  made  some 
one  else  wretched  too!  My  life  seems  destined 
to  be  a  calamity  to  all  who  fall  within  its  fateful 
shadow." 

"  No ;  speak  no  such  sad  words,"  cried  Ingle, 
falling  on  his  knees  before  her.  "  To  me  your 
presence  has  been  pure  sunshine  ;  but  were  life 
all  shadow,  I  would  rather  live  under  the  clouds 
with  thee  than  in  the  light  of  heaven  itself  without 
thee." 

"  Forgive  me !"  answered  Elinor,  wearily,  brush 
ing  her  hand  across  her  eyes.  "  It  is  idle  to  talk 
thus.  I  loved — I  love — Christopher  Neville, 
and  I  cannot  listen  to  any  other." 

"  My    words    were    untimely;     I    spoke    too 


soon." 


"  Nay,  for  me  there  is  no  time  any  more,  — 
only  a  waiting  for  eternity." 

"Think  a  moment,  Elinor!  I  must  call  thee 
so  once  if  nevermore.  Wilt  thou  in  good  earn 
est  condemn  me  to  despair  ?  " 

"  I  condemn  no  one.  If  despair  be  thy  por- 
236 


Digitus  Dei 

tion,  thou  must  needs   drink   the   cup   as    I    am 
draining  mine.      Farewell!  " 

"  Farewell,  then,  Elinor  Calvert !  And  on  thy 
head  be  my  soul's  ruin,  and  all  that  may  befall 
me  or  thee  hereafter  !  " 

So  absorbed  in  her  own  grief  was  Elinor  that 
her  ear  scarcely  caught  his  words,  nor  did  her 
mind  take  note  of  his  wild  look  and  manner  as 
he  flung  away  into  the  forest.  She  quickened 
her  pace  and  saw  with  relief  the  walls  of  the 
manor-house  rising  between  the  trees.  A  few 
more  paces  and  she  would  reach  the  house,  then 
if  Fate  were  kind,  her  room,  and  then  she  could 
at  least  be  alone  with  her  despair;  but  no,  she 
thought  bitterly,  even  this  poor  comfort  was  to  be 
denied  her,  for,  as  she  drew  near  the  house,  she 
saw  Father  White  standing  in  the  doorway.  She 
would  have  swerved  from  the  path  and  sought 
entrance  through  the  side  ropm,  but  it  was  too 
late ;  she  had  been  seen.  Father  White  moved 
toward  her  like  some  strong  merciful  angel,  hold 
ing  healing  and  benediction  in  his  outstretched 
hands. 

"  My  daughter,  thou  art  ill." 

"  Ay,  Father,  so  ill  that  I  must  needs  with  all 
speed  seek  rest  in  my  chamber." 

"  Is  it  indeed  illness,  or  grief?  " 

"  They  are  much  alike." 

"  Ay,  but  they  may  need  differing  treatment/3 
237 


Sir  Christopher 

cc  Rest  and  solitude  are  best  for  both." 

"  Nay,  for  bodily  sickness  thou  hast  need  of  a 
physician  of  the  body,  and  for  soul  sickness  of  a 
physician  of  the  soul." 

"  Father/'  said  Elinor,  sinking  on  her  knees 
before  him,  "  I  am  past  all  help  of  medicine  for 
body  or  soul  —  He  is  dead  I  " 

The  old  priest  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven, 
murmuring  to  himself,  "  Digitus  Dei  est  hie. — 
Yes,"  he  added  slowly,  "  surely  it  is  the  finger 
of  God  himself,  and  it  is  the  Lord  who  has 
spoken." 

Aloud  he  said  :  "  I  know  how  troubles  such  as 
thine  shake  the  soul  till  there  is  no  power  left  to 
seek  aid.  Then  the  Lord  sends  the  help  the 
sufferer  is  too  weak  to  reach  out  a  hand  for.  If 
thou  shouldst  probe  this  wound  of  thine,  thou 
wouldst  find  that  its  deepest  hurt  lay  not  in  what 
hath  befallen  without,  but  from  that  which  hath 
gone  wrong  within." 

"  '  T  is  God's  truth  thou  speakest." 

"  There  lies  no  help  in  man." 

"None!     None!" 

"Then  look  above!  Oh,  my  daughter,  hast 
thou  not  before  found  comfort  at  the  confessional, 
at  the  foot  of  the  altar  ?  Listen  :  I  am  a  priest 
of  God  and  charged  with  power  to  absolve  sin 
and  declare  His  pardon  to  weary,  struggling  souls 

like  thine." 

238 


Digitus  Dei 

With  a  wild  cry  Elinor  threw  up  her  arms 
above  her  head. 

"  Talk  not  to  me  of  God's  pardon !  Will  that 
bring  Christopher  Neville  to  life  ?  Will  that  save 
his  poor  heart  one  of  the  pangs  my  distrust 
dealt,  or  his  faithful  soul  one  hour  of  the  weary 
years  my  cold  disdain  cost  him  ?  Nay,  Father, 
save  pardon  and  penance  for  those  who  can  still 
use  them  !  I  tell  you,  it  is  /  who  cannot  forgive 
myself,— I!" 


239 


CHAPTER   XVI 

LIFE     OR     DEATH 

"  T  T  OLD  her,  Philpotts  !  Dead  or  alive,  I 
;  must  find  him" 

•*•  With  these  words,  as  Philpotts  laid 

his  controlling  hand  on  Peggy's  wrist,  Huntoon 
threw  off  his  coat,  kicked  away  his  boots,  and 
springing  to  the  taff-rail,  plunged  into  the  icy 
water.  As  he  plunged,  the  body  rose  again,  this 
time  further  away  from  the  boat,  and  Huntoon 
struck  out  towards  it. 

Peggy  shut  her  eyes  and  prayed. 

One  minute  —  two  —  three  —  went  by.  Then 
with  fear  and  trembling,  white  as  the  sea-gull  that 
wheeled  above  her  head,  the  girl  opened  her  eyes 
once  more,  and  strained  them  toward  the  spot 
where  Huntoon  had  plunged.  Not  there ;  so 
he  too  had  gone.  No,  that  dark  object  to  the 
right  must  be  his  head ;  now  she  could  see  one 
strong  arm  cleaving  the  water,  and  surely,  surely 
he  was  holding  some  person,  some  thing  with 
the  other.  Yes,  and  now  he  is  calling  for  a  rope. 
Oh,  fool,  fool  !  not  to  have  thought  of  that ! 

24-0 


Life  or  Death 

She  turned  to  the  cabin  ;  but  Philpotts  was  be 
fore  her.  He  dashed  down  the  companionway, 
and  reappeared  with  a  coil  of  rope  in  his  hand. 
Bracing  himself  against  the  mast,  he  flung  the  coil 
with  all  his  might.  It  flew  straight  as  an  arrow 
and  fell  within  reach  of  Huntoon's  free  hand. 

"  Bravo  !  Well  done  !  "  came  from  the  crew 
of  the  packet,  which  had  come  about  and  stood 
by  to  render  what  help  might  be  needed. 

Philpotts,  having  made  sure  that  his  rope  had 
carried,  made  the  other  end  fast  to  a  cleat,  and 
then  as  Huntoon  passed  his  end  around  Neville's 
body,  Philpotts  and  Peggy  drew  it  in  hand  over 
hand,  till  the  two  in  the  water,  the  swimmer  and 
his  burden,  were  brought  close  to  the  boat. 

Philpotts  leaped  into  the  shallop,  brought  it 
round,  and  together  he  and  Huntoon  succeeded 
in  lifting  Neville's  body  into  it.  Huntoon's  teeth 
were  chattering,  and  his  limbs  shaking  with  cold ; 
but  he  gave  no  heed  to  himself. 

"  An  ugly  blow  !  "  he  muttered,  looking  at  the 
great  round  swelling  above  the  temple  where  the 
blood  was  already  settling  black.  "  Brandy, 
Philpotts,  quick  —  from  my  flask  in  the  cabin!" 
and  falling  on  his  knees  in  the  shallop,  he  began 
to  chafe  Neville's  icy  hands.  At  the  same  time 
he  called  aloud  to  the  sailors  on  the  packet  to 
send  their  small  boat  to  make  examination  of  'The 
Lady  Betty ,  to  take  off  the  young  lady  if  the 
16  241  - 


Sir  Christopher 

danger  were  imminent,  and  to  lend  a  hand  at 
saving  the  cargo. 

He  and  Philpotts  rowed  the  shallop  to  the 
packet,  and  lifted  Neville  with  the  sailors'  help 
to  the  deck  of  the  larger  vessel.  Then,  and  not 
till  then,  he  looked  about  for  the  captain  who 
stood  facing  him,  and  behold  it  was  —  Richard 
Ingle  ! 

The  best  gift  of  the  gods  is  prudence  ;  the 
next  best  audacity.  Romney  Huntoon  was  hand 
somely  dowered  with  the  latter  commodity,  and 
he  invoked  it  now  in  his  awkward  predicament. 
Walking  up  to  Ingle  with  a  smile,  he  stretched 
out  his  hand. 

"  You  and  I  are  quits,"  he  said  ;  "  I  did  you 
a  bad  turn  yonder  at  St.  Mary's.  You  have 
done  me  a  bad  turn  now  by  sinking  my  boat. 
Shall  we  wipe  the  slate  and  begin  again  ?  " 

Huntoon's  opening  was  happily  chosen.  Had 
he  apologized,  all  would  have  been  lost ;  but  the 
freebooter  was  pleased  with  the  boy's  boldness. 
Yet  that  alone  would  scarcely  have  won  the  day. 
It  was  the  bright  eyes  of  Peggy  Neville  that  lent 
a  certain  civility  to  his  surly  voice. 

"  If  I  'd  known  whose  boat  we  were  running 
down,  I  'd  never  ha'  given  myself  the  trouble  to 
come  about,  for  I  could  ha'  seen  you  go  down  with 
her  in  great  comfort ;  but  since  ye  chanced  to 
have  this  young  lady  aboard,  I  'm  not  sorry 

242 


Life  or  Death 

things  fell  out  as  they  did.  But  that 's  as  far  as 
I  '11  go.  And  as  for  your  cargo  yonder,  I  warn 
you  that  all  we  save  of  that  goes  to  Ingle  and 
Company,  to  make  good  the  damage  to  The 
Reformation" 

"A  bit  of  paint —  "  began  Huntoon,  and  then 
turned  his  back  and  stood  looking  over  the  rail, 
watching  the  death-struggle  of  The  Lady  Betty. 
The  little  vessel  rolled  first  this  way  and  then 
that,  shipping  water  in  her  hold  at  every  turn. 

There  is  a  solemnity  in  watching  a  sinking 
ship  akin  to  that  of  standing  by  a  death-bed.  As 
Huntoon  looked,  a  wave  of  memories  swept  over 
him.  He  recalled  the  first  journey  he  had  taken 
aboard  her,  the  pride  of  setting  out  with  his 
father,  the  smell  of  tar  on  the  ropes,  as  the  sailors 
cast  them  loose,  and  the  anxious  face  of  his 
mother  as  she  stood  on  the  pier  to  wave  a  fare 
well.  With  this  thought  of  his  father  and  mother 
came  the  wonder  how  this  disaster  would  strike 
them.  He  dreaded  their  consternation  at  the 
loss,  but  he  felt  sure  of  their  sympathy.  Blessed 
is  the  son  who  holds  to  that,  let  come  what  may. 

Meanwhile,  Neville  lay  on  the  packet's  deck, 
pale  as  death,  with  eyelids  closed,  and  only  the 
faint  beating  of  his  heart  giving  evidence  that  he 
still  lived.  Peggy  sat  beside  him,  holding  sal 
volatile  to  his  nostrils.  The  sailors  stood  around 
in  a  sympathetic  circle,  their  Monmouth  caps 

243 


Sir  Christopher 

doffed,  though  the  winter  air  was  searching. 
None  doubted  that  they  were  in  the  face  of 
death,  and  the  roughest  sailor  grows  reverent  in 
that  august  presence. 

At  length,  however,  the  lowered  lids  quivered 
and  lifted  themselves  first  a  crack,  then  wider  and 
wider  till  the  eyes  —  those  long  steel-gray  eyes  — 
rested  with  full  recognition  on  Huntoon  and 
Philpotts.  His  lips  moved,  and  formed  one 
half-audible  word,  "St.  Mary's!" 

Huntoon  looked  questioningly  at  Ingle  who 
answered  as  if  he  had  spoken,  — 

"  No,  by  the  Lord  !  and  any  one  who  suggests 
turning  about  for  so  much  as  a  mile,  will  be  spitted 
like  a  pigeon  on  my  sword  here  and  flung  into 
the  sea." 

"  As  you  will,"  said  Huntoon,  coolly.  "  So  far 
as  I  know,  none  has  suggested  it  save  this  man 
who  is  raving  in  delirium  from  the  cut  in  his 
head.  For  my  part,  I  had  far  rather  he  did  not 
get  his  wish,  for  we  have  but  just  saved  him  from 
Brent's  clutches." 

"How  's  that?  I  thought  they  were  as  thick 
as -thieves." 

"  So  they  were  ;  but  time  brings  strange  re 
venges.  It  was  after  you  did  set  sail  that  the 
priest  was  murdered  at  St.  Gabriel's." 

"  I  'm  right  glad  to  hear  of  it  whenever  one 
of  those  black  crows  is  put  out  of  the  way.  No 

244 


Life  or  Death 

word  of  it  reached  me,  though  I  have  been 
hanging  about  the  river  here  waiting  for  cargo.'* 

"  That  means  spying  on  the  land,"  Huntoon 
thought  to  himself,  but  aloud  he  said, — 

"  Well,  so  it  has  fallen  out,  and  because  he  had 
Neville's  knife  in  his  breast,  the  Governor  will 
have  it  that  it  was  Neville  did  the  murder.  He 
was  hot  for  punishment,  and  will  be  sore  angered 
when  he  finds  his  prey  has  slipped  through  his 
fingers." 

This  was  shrewdly  spoken.  To  spite  Giles 
Brent,  Ingle  would  have  taken  much  trouble ; 
but  his  suspicions  were  not  yet  set  at  rest. 

"  Then  what  for  should  Neville  want  to  go  to 
St.  Mary's?" 

"  'T  is  a  strange  affection  he  hath.  You 
would  call  it  folly  ;  some  folks  call  it  honor." 

Richard  Ingle  colored,  and  Huntoon  hastened 
to  change  the  subject:  "Now,  Captain  Ingle,  I 
have  a  proposition  to  make  :  In  regard  to  the 
salvage  of  my  cargo  belonging  to  your  crew, 
there  might  be  two  opinions  ;  and  if  you  took 
it  without  my  leave,  there  might  be  awkward 
questions  for  you  to  settle  when  next  you  come 
to  Virginia  ;  but  I  '11  agree  that  you  may  have  it 
as  ferryage  if  you  '11  take  us  four  and  our  crew  to 
Romney  on  the  York  River,  which  doubtless  lies 
off  your  course." 

"  S'  let  it  be  !  "  growled  Ingle,  adding  under 
245 


Sir  Christopher 

his  breath,  "  Damn  the  fool !  I  was  going  that 
way  anyhow  to  have  talk  with  Claiborne. 

"  Turn  to,  men  !  Have  out  the  boats,  and 
save  what  we  can  from  yonder  ketch,  for  by  all 
the  signs  she  will  not  last  half  an  hour." 

Romney  had  no  heart  to  watch  the  men  at 
work  nor  the  oars  flashing  over  the  water.  He 
turned  instead  to  where  Neville  lay. 

"  He  '11  catch  his  death  lying  here  in  the  cold,'* 
he  said ;  "  let  us  carry  him  below,  Philpotts  !  " 

"  Ay,"  said  Ingle,  carelessly,  "  ye  may  lay  him 
in  the  cabin  next  mine,  and  the  third  and  last 
cabin  I  '11  have  made  ready  for  Mistress  Neville. 
You  're  to  be  queen  o'  the  ship  while  you  're 
aboard,"  he  added,  turning  to  Peggy  ;  "  and  when 
you  land  you  shall  have  the  salute  of  five  guns  I 
promised  you  at  St.  Mary's." 

Peggy  thanked  the  Captain  with  gracious 
courtesy,  but  Romney  glowered  and  made  as  if 
to  speak,-  then  thought  better  of  it,  and  lifting 
Neville  with  the  help  of  Philpotts  bore  him 
down  into  the  cabin,  where  they  chafed  feet  and 
hands  with  brandy  and  wrapped  the  cold  form  in 
hot  blankets. 

To  Huntoon's  strained  sense  it  seemed  hours, 
though  it  was  only  minutes,  before  the  rapid 
tread  of  feet  on  the  deck,  the  creaking  of  ropes, 
and  the  flapping  of  sails  gave  notice  that  The 
Reformation  was  once  more  under  way.  Hurry- 

246 


Life  or  Death 

ing  on  deck,  he  was  just  in  time  to  see  The  Lady 
Betty  rise  for  the  last  time  on  the  crest  of  the 
wave,  and  then,  with  a  final  shiver,  plunge  down 
ward  in  five  fathoms  of  water.  Tears  rose  to  his 
eyes  and  a  ball  that  seemed  as  big  as  an  apple 
stuck  in  his  throat ;  but  he  gulped  it  down  and 
began  to  pace  the  deck  with  a  manner  as  indif 
ferent  as  he  could  make  it. 

"  There  's  ship's  biscuit  and  hot  stuff  in  the 
cabin,"  said  Ingle.  "  You  'd  best  come  below  and 
have  some.  You  look  as  though  you  'd  fasted 
near  long  enough." 

It  was  the  first  time  the  thought  of  food  had 
crossed  Huntoon's  mind,  but  he  realized  now 
that  it  was  well  on  towards  nightfall  and  he  had 
not  broken  fast  since  seven  in  the  morning.  Yet 
when  he  was  seated  at  the  table  despite  his 
hunger  he  could  scarce  eat.  Two  things  choked 
him  :  first,  the  thought  of  The  Lady  Betty  lying 
on  the  sand  five  fathoms  under  water  and  her 
cargo  on  this  pirate's  deck  ;  and  afterward,  when 
he  had  conquered  this  bitterness  and  looked  up, 
the  anger  in  his  heart  at  sight  of  the  ogling 
attention  Richard  Ingle  was  bestowing  upon 
Peggy  Neville. 

The  girl  herself  was  more  than  a  little  frightened, 
but  she  held  her  head  high. 

"  Had  I  known  we  were  to  have  a  lady  aboard, 
I  had  had  the  cabin  decorated." 

247 


Sir  Christopher 

cc  Bare  walls  go  best  with  a  sad  heart.  Captain 
Ingle." 

"  Fill  your  goblet  again  and  down  with  the 
Madeira  !  " 

"  None  for  me,  I  thank  you." 

cc  Ho  !  ho  !  I  see  you  are  jealous.  Wine  and 
woman,  the  old  saw  says,  make  fools  of  all  men. 
So  belike  you  care  not  to  take  your  rival  to 
your  heart." 

"  I  crave  your  permission  to  withdraw." 

"  Ah,  do  those  bright  eyes  feel  the  weight  of 
sleep  so  early  ?  " 

Peggy  bowed. 

cc  Then  must  we  do  without  them,  though  't  is 
like  turning  out  the  light  in  the  ship's  lantern. 
Your  cabin,  you  know,  lies  between  your  brother's 
and  mine." 

"  I  shall  sit  with  my  brother  the  night." 

"  And  you  so  overcome  with  drowsiness," 
mocked  Ingle. 

Huntoon  started  up  ;  but  Peggy  checked  him  : 
"  Master  Huntoon,  will  you  take  me  to  my 
brother  ?  I  will  detain  him  but  a  moment,  Cap 
tain  Ingle,  and  I  thank  you  for  your  courtesy." 

It  might  have  been  a  court  lady  who  swept 
past  Ingle  to  take  Huntoon's  arm  ;  but  it  was  a 
trembling  and  much  frightened  little  maid  who 
entered  Neville's  cabin. 

cc  Will  you  do  something  for  me  ? " 
248 


Life  or  Death 

"  Anything." 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  say  it." 

"  I  know.     You  fear  Ingle." 

"I  do." 

"  And  would  like  to  have  me  sleep  outside  the 
door  here." 

"  No ;  that  would  make  him  angry,  and  we 
are  all  in  his  power." 

Cf  I  fear  you  speak  only  the  truth." 

"  But  there  is  a  way." 

"  What  ? " 

"  Keep  him  talking  all  night." 

"  I  will  try,  and,  Peggy,  if  worst  comes  to 
worst  —  " 

"  I  know,  and  I  trust  you ;  but  now  hasten 
back." 

So  he  left  her. 

When  Huntoon  returned  to  the  table,  Ingle 
poured  him  out  a  huge  bumper  of  Madeira  and 
another  for  himself,  though  his  flushed  cheeks 
and  glazed  eyes  showed  that  he  had  little  need 
of  more.  Then  leaving  his  seat  he  went  to  the 
little  locker  at  the  end  of  the  cabin,  and  drawing 
out  two  carefully  preserved  treasures  set  them 
down  with  a  thump  on  the  table. 

"  Do  ye  know  what  those  are  ?  " 

"  Drinking  cups,"  said  Huntoon,  but  he 
shuddered. 

"Ay,  drinking  cups  of  a  rare  make.  The 
249 


Sir  Christopher 

last  voyage  but  one  of  The  Reformation  we  fell 
in  with  a  ship  and  would  have  boarded  her 
peaceably,  as  the  crew  were  for  letting  us,  but  the 
captain  and  mate  made  a  fight  for  it  and  cost  me 
two  of  our  best  men.  So  angered  was  I  by  their 
obstinacy,  I  vowed  if  we  won  I'd  have  their 
skulls  made  into  drinking  cups,  and  here  they 
are  with  the  silver  rims  round  'em  fashioned  by  a 
smith  on  board  from  a  roll  of  silver  on  the  ship. 
See,  I  '11  take  the  captain,  and  you  shall  drink 
from  the  mate.  Now  give  us  a  toast." 

Huntoon  paled  and  his  heart  thumped  against 
his  ribs,  but  he  kept  saying  to  himself,  "Yes, 
Peggy,  I  will  do  it.  I  promised  you,  and  I  must 
not  fail." 

At  length,  grasping  the  ghastly  cup,  he  raised 
it  and  in  a  voice  of  strained  gayety  cried  out,  — 

"Here's  to  The  Reformation!  She's  a  gal 
lant  vessel,  as  this  day's  work  has  proved." 

"  Ay,  that  she  is,  and  fit  to  gladden  the  heart 
of  any  sailor  in  Christendom." 

"Were  you  bred  to  the  sea?  " 

"Not  I." 

"  That 's  strange.  You  walk  the  deck  as  if 
you  had  had  sea  legs  on  since  you  gave  up  going 
on  all  fours." 

"Ay,  but  that  comes  of  natural  bent  and 
brains.  Give  a  man  brains  enough  and  he  can 
be  anything  from  an  admiral  to  a  bishop.  Now 

250 


Life  or  Death 

there  was  a  time  when  I  had  thoughts  of  being  a 
bishop  myself." 

"  You  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  may  smile,  and  I  own  there  's  not 
much  in  the  cut  of  my  jib  to  suggest  its  being 
made  of  the  cloth,  and  this  ring  I  wear  being 
taken  from  the  finger  of  a  corpse  in  a  merchant 
man  would  scarce  do  duty  for  the  Episcopal 
symbol ;  but  for  all  that  I  speak  truth." 

"  And  what  changed  your  purpose  ?  " 

"  What  always  changes  a  man's  purpose  ?  A 
woman.  Here,  pass  over  that  Madeira.  Do 
you  know,  I  have  more  than  half  a  mind  to  tell 
you  the  whole  story." 

"  Should  I  not  feel  honored  by  the  confidence  ?" 

"  Well  you  may,  for  I  Ve  never  yet  told  it 
to  any  one ;  but  the  sight  of  that  girl  and  you 
in  love  with  her  —  oh,  never  mind  coloring  up 
like  that.  I  knew  it  the  moment  you  set  foot 
on  the  ship  —  the  sight  of  you  two,  I  say,  brings 
it  all  back." 

"You  were  in  love  once  P  " 

"  Ay,  that  I  was,  as  deep  as  you  or  any  other 
fool." 

"  Was  the  girl  English  ?  " 

"  Ay,  and  a  tall,  straight,  handsome  girl  as  ever 
you  saw,  in  those  days,  —  far  handsomer  than  her 
sister,  who  is  and  always  was  a  weakling,  with  no 
more  expression  than  a  basin  of  hasty  pudding." 

251 


Sir    Christopher 


"  She  is  living,  then  ?  " 

For  answer  Ingle  pointed  with  his  thumb  over 
his  shoulder  in  the  direction  of  Kent  Fort. 

"  Here,  in  Maryland  ?  " 

Ingle  lurched  halfway  across  the  table,  and  put 
ting  his  hand  to  the  side  of  his  mouth  whispered 
a  name. 

"  No  !  "  exclaimed  Huntoon. 

"  Ay  !  "  then  jealously,  "  Perhaps  you  think 
she  's  too  good  for  me  ?  " 

Huntoon  thought  it  prudent  to  evade  the 
question  by  another. 

"  Did  you  ever  tell  your  love  ?  " 

"  I  tried  to,  and  more  than  once,  but  I  could 
never  get  her  to  listen.  Curse  the  pride  of  those 
Brents!" 

"  They  are  proud,"  Huntoon  assented. 

"Ay,  and  Margaret  proudest  of  all.  Why, 
when  I  wrote  her  she  sent  back  the  letter,  saying 
she  could  not  read  it  for  the  spelling,  and  that  I 
would  be  the  better  for  a  twelvemonth  more  of 
schooling.  And  when  I  spoke  to  her  she  bade 
me  shut  my  mouth.  And  when  I  held  her  wrist 
and  would  make  her  listen,  she  said  I  was  no 
gentleman." 

"  But  how  were  you  on  the  road  to  a  bishop's 
see  ?  Not  surely  by  writing  of  misspelled  letters 
and  holding  of  ladies'  hands  against  their  wills." 

"  No,  but  in  spite  of  it,  for  I  had  influence  and 
252 


Life  or  Death 

the  Archbishop  was  a  friend  of  my  father's,  and 
I  had  his  promise  of  preferment,  which  was  good 
for  its  face  value  in  those  days,  and  I  might  have 
risen  to  anything ;  but  when  Margaret  Brent  cast 
scorn  at  me  like  that  it  maddened  me  —  and 
what  was  she  to  hold  herself  above  me  ?  What 
are  the  Calverts  themselves?  Why,  Leonard 
Calvert's  grandfather  was  a  grazier,  and  Leonard 
himself  was  a  dolt  when  we  were  at  school 
together." 

Huntoon,  not  seeing  exactly  what  answer  was 
expected,  wisely  attempted  none,  but  made  a 
feint  of  helping  himself  from  thejug  at  his  elbow, 
and  then  shoved  it  across  the  table.  Ingle  shook 
it  and  finding  it  still  heavy,  set  it  down  with  a 
contented  thump. 

"  Bide  you  there,  my  beauty  !  "  he  said  jovially, 
"  till  I  'm  ready  for  you.  I  '11  have  you  yet. 
Yes,  and  Margaret  Brent  too,  for  all  her  fine-lady 
airs.  Who  ever  heard  of  the  Brents  till  they 
sprang  up  like  mushrooms  in  this  new  world? 
While  the  Ingles  —  my  grandfather  did  oft  tell 
me  how  all  England  took  its  name  from  them." 

"  Faith  !  "  said  Huntoon  to  himself,  "  your 
spelling  is  not  much  improved  since  the  days 
when  you  wrote  Mistress  Brent."  Aloud  he 
said,  "  And  did  the  disappointment  drive  you 
out  of  England,  the  country  named  after  your 
forefathers  ? " 

253 


Sir  Christopher 

"  It  did,"  answered  Ingle,  with  a  hiccough,  and 
fell  into  drunken  weeping,  "  but  perhaps  I  might 
have  lost  my  head  if  I'd  tarried,  so  maybe  'tis 
all  for  the  best,  and  the  life  o'  the  sea  is  a  merry 
one  ;  but  I  Ve  never  forgotten  nor  forgiven,  and 
for  Margaret  Brent's  sake  I  Ve  sworn  an  oath  to 
make  a  hell  of  Maryland  to  all  her  kith  and 
kin." 

With  this  Ingle  came  to  himself  a  little  and 
feared  the  confidences  he  was  making  this  stranger 
in  his  cups  might  have  gone  too  far,  so  he  burst 
into  tipsy  laughter  and  shook  the  jug,  which  was 
made  of  leather,  and  then  poured  its  contents  to 
the  last  dregs  into  his  silver-rimmed  skull,  and 
finally  waving  it  above  his  head  burst  out 
singing,— 

"  '  Oh,  a  leather  bottel  we  know  is  good, 
Far  better  than  glasses  or  cans  of  wood. 
And  what  do  you  say  to  the  silver  flagons  fine  ? 
Oh,  they  shall  have  no  praise  of  mine, 
But  I  wish  in  Heaven  his  soul  may  dwell 
That  first  devised  the  leather  bottel  ! ' 

Huzza  for  the  leather  bottel !  and  huzza  for  the 
wine  in  it !  Wine  and  woman  they  're  a  fine 
pair  ;  I  '11  sing  you  a  song  about  them  —  hie  !  " 

Huntoon  looked  anxiously  toward  the  door 
behind  which  Peggy  was  sitting,  and  he  saw  with 
satisfaction  that  the  carousing  Captain  had  prom 
ised  more  than  he  could  perform,  for  when  he 

254 


Life  or  Death 

started  to  sing  his  voice  failed  him,  his  arm  fell 
at  his  side,  and  the  whole  man  collapsed  in  a 
heap  beneath  the  table. 

"At  last,"  murmured  Huntoon,  gratefully, 
"  I  think  he  can  be  trusted  to  stay  where  he  is 
till  morning,"  and  escaping  from  the  close  cabin 
with  its  foul-smelling  lantern  he  made  his  way  to 
the  deck. 

The  fog  was  gone,  and  the  night  stainlessly, 
brilliantly,  radiantly  clear.  The  stars  twinkled 
a  frosty  greeting  to  him.  The  deep,  dark  blue 
of  the  sky  calmed  and  soothed  him.  He  took 
a  dozen  turns  up  and  down  the  deck,  then  he 
went  below,  and  stretching  himself  out  before 
the  door  ot  Peggy's  cabin  fell  into  a  deep, 
dreamless  sleep. 


255 


CHAPTER   XVII 

ROMNEY 

IT  was  on  the  afternoon  of  the  day  after  the 
collision  with  The  Lady  Betty  that  The 
Reformation  rounded  the  last  headland  that 
shut  Romney  from  the  view.  The  river  ran 
cobalt  blue  between  its  brown  banks,  bare  but 
for  the  patches  of  snow  that  lay  here  and  there 
in  unsunned  hollows.  The  sky  arched  above 
far  and  clear,  save  where  a  group  of  fleecy  clouds 
bunched  together  like  a  flock  of  white  sheep  on 
the  horizon. 

The  sunlight  fell  full  on  the  western  front  of 
Romney  as  it  stood  in  stalwart  bulk  against  the 
black  forest  behind  it,  its  wings  outspread  on 
either  side  like  some  wild  bird  sheltering  its 
young.  A  stout  stockade  enclosed  house  and 
grounds,  and  ended  on  either  side  of  the  little 
wharf  running  out  into  the  river. 

In  the  doorway  of  the  house  stood  a  woman, 
her  hand  raised  to  shelter  her  eyes  as  she  scanned 
the  river  to  the  southward.  Mistress  Huntoon 
was  still  beautiful,  though  the  radiance  of 

256 


Romney 

youth  was  gone.  The  pencilled  eyebrow  and 
the  transparent  curve  of  the  delicate  nostril, 
the  lambent  flame  in  the  eyes,  yet  remained, 
and,  above  all,  that  indefinable  attraction  which 
hovers  about  some  women  from  the  cradle  to 
the  grave. 

Just  now  she  shivered  a  little  as  though  she 
had  been  standing  and  looking  long.  Then  she 
drew  closer  about  her  the  cloak  of  gray  paduasoy 
lined  with  yellow  and  held  by  carved  clasps  of 
polished  marcasite. 

"  Will  he  never  come  ?  "  she  murmured. 
"  'T  is  nigh  a  week  since  he  was  to  have  reached 
home,  and  I  cannot  help  worrying,  for  all  his 
father  laughs  and  bids  me  put  away  womanish 
fears  and  remember  that  the  boy  is  well-nigh 
come  to  man's  estate  and  better  able  than  either 
of  us  to  look  after  himself.  Ah,  what's  that 
beyond  the  headland?  A  sail,  a  sail,  Hum 
phrey!  Do  you  hear?  a  sail  in  the  river!  It 
must  be  Romney's,  though  it  looks  over  large 
for  The  Lady  Betty." 

Her  eager  words  brought  her  husband  to  her 
side,  buttoning  his  doublet  close  as  he  shut  the 
door  behind  him. 

"  Poor,  poor  little  mother  !  "  he  said,  as  he  laid 
a  comforting  arm  about  her  shoulder,  "we  can 
not  let  the  lad  go  beyond  the  length  of  her 
apron  string  again,  if  she  is  to  lead  me  such 
17  257 


Sir  Christopher 

a  life  as  this  of  last  week.  Why,  we  have 
had  him  die  of  seven  separate  deaths  already. 
Let  me  see,"  and  he  began  counting  soberly 
on  his  fingers  :  "  first,  drowned  in  Chesapeake 
Bay ;  second,  caught  by  pirates  and  carried  off  to 
the  Bermudas ;  third,  languishing  in  prison,  for 
taking  the  part  of  Virginia  in  one  of  Master 
Claiborne's  skirmishes  between  commonwealth 
and  palatinate ;  fourth,  stabbed  in  the  streets  of 
St.  Mary's  on  a  dark  night  and  robbed  of  his 
gold ;  fifth,  shot  in  a  duel  brought  on  by  his 
hot  temper  c  so  like  his  father's ; '  sixth,  frozen 
to  death  on  some  lonely  Maryland  road ;  or  last 
and  worst  of  all,  dead  in  love  with  some  design 
ing  maid,  wife,  or  widow  there  at  St.  Mary's 
and  wholly  forgetful  of  his  duty  to  thee  and 
me  —  ay,  sweetheart  ?  " 

"Hush,  Humphrey!  Cease  thy  jesting  and 
tell  me  is  that  'The  Lady  Betty,  or  is  it  not  ?  " 

"Why,  no,  as  I  make  out,  'tis  too  large  for 
the  ketch,  deeper  built,  and  with  a  prow  more 
fit  to  buffet  ocean  waves.  'Tis  more  likely  a 
merchant  packet  plying  a  regular  trade  with 
James  City  or  St.  Mary's ;  but  come,  let  us 
signal  her  from  the  wharf  and  perhaps  we  may 
get  some  news  of  Romney." 

The  wind  was  blowing  cold  as  they  reached 
the  dock,  and  Huntoon  wrapped  the  gray  cloak 
close  about  his  wife,  as  they  seated  themselves 

358 


Romney 

under  the  shelter  of  a  pile  of  logs  to  watch  the 
approaching  vessel. 

"  Dost  thou  remember,  Betty,  the  day  I  set  sail 
from  James  City  in  'The  Red  Fox?  " 

"  Ay,  that  I  do,  and  I  watching  thee  from  the 
window  of  the  Carys'  cottage,  with  my  heart  in 
my  throat." 

"  And  I  that  disappointed  I  could  have  cried 
like  a  schoolboy,  because  thou  earnest  not  to  see 
me  off." 

"  I  dared  not." 

"  If  I  could  only  have  known  that !  " 

"  Poor  fool,  too  dull  to  ask  what  thou  wast 
aching  to  know  !  " 

"Ay,  poor  fool  indeed,  and  much  needless 
trouble  my  dulness  and  diffidence  together  brought 
upon  me,  and  on  thee  too  ;  but  in  the  end  all 
came  out  right,  and  I  sometimes  think  we  could 
not  have  loved  each  other  so  well  but  for  all  the 
trials  we  went  through." 

For  all  answer  Elizabeth  Huntoon  slipped  her 
hand  into  her  husband's. 

"  Yet  such  inconsistent  creatures  are  we,  I 
own  I  would  not  our  boy  should  suffer  as 
I  did." 

"Never  fear;  Romney  is  a  lad  of  spirit,  and 
will  never  lose  a  girl  for  lack  of  asking." 

"  Ay,  but  asking  and  getting  are  two  different 
things.  There  was  Captain  Spellman.  He  wooed 

2.59 


Sir  Christopher 


thee  with  as  much  spirit  as  any  woman  could 
wish." 

"  The  presuming  coxcomb  !  " 

"  There  it  is.  What  is  a  poor  man  to  do,  when 
asking  is  presumption,  and  not  asking  is  dul- 
ness  ?  " 

"  Do  ?  Why,  hold  his  tongue  and  use  his 
eyes,  to  be  sure." 

"  But,  Betty,  thou  wert  never  twice  alike." 

"  So  shouldst  thou  have  changed  too.  When  I 
was  hot,  thou  shouldst  have  been  cold.  When  I 
was  cold,  thou  shouldst  have  turned  to  a  furnace." 

"  Who  loves,  fears.  I  played  the  fool ;  but, 
Betty,  't  was  the  fool  who  won.  Pray  Heaven 
Romney  meets  as  kind  a  fate." 

"  But,  Humphrey,  what  can  be  keeping  him  ?  " 

"  The  old  refrain ;  I  have  heard  that  question 
so  often  I  could  answer  it  in  my  sleep.  Thy  boy 
is  safe  and  sound,  and  will  give  a  good  account  of 
his  absence,  I'll  be  bound." 

For  all  his  light  treatment  of  his  wife's  terrors, 
Master  Huntoon  had  his  own  fears  for  his  son's 
safety,  and  realized  better  than  she  could  the 
many  forms  of  danger  and  temptations  that  beset 
a  home-bred  youth,  setting  out  to  do  business  or 
battle  with  the  world.  It  was  with  a  glad  leap  of 
the  heart  and  a  curious  catch  in  his  throat  that 
he  recognized  the  stalwart  figure  by  the  gunwale 
as  the  packet  drew  near  the  wharf,  though  a  mo- 

260 


Romney 

ment  later  he  realized  that  something  must  have 
gone  wrong  with  the  ketch. 

"All's  well,  Father/'  cried  Romney;  which 
meant,  "  There 's  the  devil  to  pay  ;  bat  I  'm 
alive.'' 

Before  the  ship  had  made  fast  her  first  hawser, 
the  boy  was  over  its  side  and  in  his  mother's 
arms,  with  one  hand  held  fast  in  his  father's, 
pouring  forth  a  torrent  of  words  so  bewildering 
that  his  father  finally  clapped  his  hand  over  his 
son's  mouth,  saying,  — 

"  Softly,  thou  headlong  stripling,  or  thou  wilt 
split  our  ears  in  the  effort  to  hear,  and  our  heads 
trying  to  take  all  in.  Now  let  me  put  the  ques 
tions,  and  do  thou  say  c  ay '  or  c  no,'  and  as 
little  more  as  the  grace  of  God  lets  thee  hold 
thy  tongue  for.  Now,  thou  didst  load  at  St. 
Mary's  ? " 

"  Ay,  sir." 

"  And  cleared  in  safety  ?  " 

"  Ay." 

"  And  stopped  at  St.  Gabriel's  Manor  ?  " 

«  Ay." 

"What  for?" 

"  How  can  I  say  £  ay  '  or  c  no  '  to  that  ?  " 
"  Then  explain  more  at  length  ;  but  briefly." 
cc  Prithee  let  that   stand.     Suffice  it  to   say  a 
man  —  a  friend  of  mine  —  was  in  mortal  peril,  and 
his  sister  and  I  resolved  to  save  him." 

261 


Sir  Christopher 

"Sister!  Ah,  I  begin  to  see  a  light.  Is  she 
with  you  ?  " 

"  Ay,  and  I  have  promised  her  a  welcome 
from  thee  and  my  mother  fit  to  heal  her  sore 
heart/' 

"  Well,  well,  we  '11  come  to  that  later.  Now 
what  befell  the  ketch  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  fog  befell  us  first,  and  then  Dick 
Ingle  befell  us,  and  then  the  devil  befell  us ;  but 
here  we  are  in  spite  of  all  three  ;  and,  Mother, 
thou  wilt  be  good  to  her,  wilt  thou  not  ? " 

The  crisis  had  come  to  Elizabeth  Huntoon,  as 
it  comes  to  every  mother  —  gradually  to  some, 
suddenly  to  others  —  when  she  realizes  that  her 
supreme  place  is  gone  forever.  Henceforth,  for 
her,  affection  and  esteem  and  a  comfortable  suite 
of  dowager  apartments  in  her  child's  heart ;  but 
the  absolute  sway,  the  power,  the  fastness  at  an 
end. 

The  blood  surged  back  from  Mistress  Hun- 
toon's  face,  leaving  it  gray,  and  for  the  first  time 
with  the  touch  of  age  upon  it,  so  that  one  could 
know  how  she  would  look  as  an  old  woman. 

"Yes;  I  will  be  good.  Where  is  she?" 
The  lips  formed  the  words  which  sounded  cold 
and  formal  in  her  own  ears  ;  but  she  saw  with 
a  new  pang  that  her  son  had  no  leisure  for  noting 
subtle  shades  of  tone  or  meaning  in  her  voice, 

"  Here,  Mother,  here  !  "  he  exclaimed,  turning 
262 


Romney 

to  where  his  father  was  already  assisting  Peggy 
Neville  from  the  deck  to  the  wharf.  Now,  had 
Peggy  been  rosy  and  dimpling  and  happy  as  she 
was  a  fortnight  ago,  and  as  she  must  needs  have 
been  to  arrest  the  wandering  fancy  of  Romney 
Huntoon,  his  mother  would  have  greeted  her 
with  as  much  coolness  as  Virginia  hospitality  per 
mitted  ;  but  seeing  a  pale,  tearful  little  face, 
weary  and  woe-begone,  peeping  out  from  the 
brown  curls,  the  older  woman  felt  her  heart 
touched  by  a  keen  remembrance  of  herself  as  a 
young  girl,  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land  ;  and  wait 
ing  no  words  of  presentation,  she  made  one  of 
her  swift,  characteristic  strides  toward  Peggy,  and 
folding  her  arms  close  about  her,  kissed  her  on 
both  cheeks. 

"  Poor  child  ! "  she  said  in  her  low  caressing 
voice ;  "  thou  art  fair  tired  out  and  sadly  in  need 
of  rest.  Come  with  me  to  the  little  white  cham 
ber  next  mine ;  there  shalt  thou  bathe  thy  face 
with  fresh  water  and  rest  thy  weary  body  in  a 
warm  bed." 

"  But  my  brother  — •  he  is  very  ill  —  " 
"  Leave  him  to  my  husband,  who  is  counted 
the  best  physician  in  Virginia.  He  and  Romney 
can  do  more  for  him  than  thou  or  I.  Romney, 
receive  our  guests  and  do  what  is  needful  for 
their  comfort !  I  will  join  thee  shortly  in  the 

hall." 

,263 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Captain  Ingle,  will  you  come  ashore  and  try 
the  quality  of  Romney  cheer  ?  "  said  Humphrey 
Huntoon,  as  his  son  stood  looking  like  one  dazed 
after  the  women  on  the  path. 

"  I  thank  you  ;  but  my  time  is  short,  and  T 
must  have  speech  with  Master  Claiborne,  who  is 
staying  further  up  the  river." 

"  Perhaps  on  your  return  you  will  stop  and 
let  me  try  to  repay  —  "  began  Huntoon,  courte 
ously  ;  but  the  thought  of  The  Lady  Betty's 
goods  stored  in  The  Reformation's  hold  pricked 
Ingle's  conscience. 

"  I  am  already  repaid,"  he  answered  stiffly, 
"  and  there  is  no  call  for  thanks  on  either  side. 
Here,  you  men  !  Lift  Sir  Christopher  Neville 
over  the  railing  there.  Three  of  you  go  to  this 
side ;  three  to  that.  So !  easy  there.  One  — 
two  —  three  !  Now  lift !  " 

To  give  the  devil  his  due,  no  man  had  such  a 
gift  as  Richard  Ingle  for  giving  orders. 

It  was  scarcely  quarter  of  an  hour  after  The 
Reformation  touched  the  wharf  before  she  was 
away  again,  leaving  four  of  her  passengers  and 
the  crew  of  The  Lady  Betty  on  the  wharf.  When 
she  was  well  out  in  the  river,  Ingle  ordered  a 
salute  of  five  guns,  and  then  bade  his  men  give 
three  cheers  for  the  Mistress  Peggy  Neville,  the 
handsomest  girl  that  ever  trod  the  deck  of  a 
vessel. 

264 


Romney 

"Here's  to  her!"  he  cried  himself,  "and 
may  she  have  the  luck  to  marry  a  buccaneer 
when  yonder  stripling  is  dead  and  gone  !  " 

Peggy  smiled  a  watery,  tearful  smile  as  she 
heard  the  five  guns.  How  little,  she  thought, 
had  she  imagined  under  what  circumstances  that 
salute  would  be  fired  when  Captain  Ingle  lightly 
promised  it  at  St.  Mary's  ! 

But  her  hostess  would  give  her  no  time  for 
thought.  She  led  her  swiftly  up  the  winding 
stair  to  the  little  white  bedroom,  and  in  a  trice 
she  had  set  black  Dinah  at  work  heating  the 
sheets  with  the  great  brass  warming-pan.  Susan 
was  fetching  water  hot  and  cold,  and  she  herself 
was  loosening  the  lacings  with  which  Peggy's 
own  numb  fingers  fumbled  in  vain. 

All  the  while  she  kept  her  eyes  upon  the 
wharf  which  lay  below  the  window.  Already  a 
litter  had  been  improvised  of  boards  that  lay  on 
the  wharf;  four  men  lifted  the  figure  over  the 
ship's  side  and  laid  it  down  gently.  Then  the 
litter  was  raised  and  borne  toward  the  house, 
Romney  and  his  father  walking  on  either  side. 
Once  or  twice  the  figure  struggled  and  flung  its 
arms  wildly  above  its  head.  So  violent  did  the 
struggles  become  that  at  length  Master  Huntoon 
drew  a  phial  from  his  jerkin,  and  pouring  out 
some  drops  forced  them  between  the  prostrate 
man's  lips.  The  head  fell  back,  and  quiet  settled 

265 


Sir  Christopher 

on  the  limbs  so  suddenly  that  Mistress  Huntoon 
uttered  an  involuntary  exclamation  of  terror. 

Peggy  caught  her  anxiety  in  a  moment. 

"What  are  they  doing?  Where  is  he?  Oh, 
not —  not  dead!" 

"  Why,  no,  foolish  child,"  answered  Lady 
Betty,  ready  to  pinch  herself  for  her  ill-timed  out 
cry.  "  Look  for  thyself.  See,  they  are  bearing 
him  up  the  walk,  and  they  will  have  him  un 
dressed  and  put  to  bed  in  no  time.  Go  thou 
to  rest  likewise  !  I  promise  to  bring  thee  tid 
ings,  should  there  be  need  of  thee  in  the  sick 
room,  and  meanwhile  let  me  sing  thee  a  little 
song  that  my  mother  sang  to  me  in  the  old 
country,  and  I  again  to  Romney  here  in  his 
babyhood." 

Mistress  Huntoon  watched  Peggy  closely  as 
she  spoke  Romney's  name,  but  no  answering 
blush  marked  her  words.  The  girl  was  so  utterly 
worn  out  that  she  scarcely  took  any  heed  of  what 
was  passing  around  her,  but  sank  upon  the  bed, 
closed  her  eyes,  and  dropped  into  sweet  slumber 
to  the  sound  of  a  tender,  preoccupied  croon 
ing  of  the  old  refrain,  —  the  same  that  Romney 
had  hummed  to  himself  on  the  hillside  path  at 
St.  Mary's, — 

"  Heigh-ho  !  whether  or  no, 
Kiss  me  once  before  you  go 
Under  the  trees  where  the  pippins  grow.51 
266 


Romney 

In  her  dreams  it  seemed  to  Peggy  that  she 
was  standing  on  a  ladder  in  an  English  orchard. 
Romney  was  shaking  the  tree  and  for  every 
apple  that  fell  claiming  a  kiss,  while  she  from  her 
vantage  ground  of  the  ladder  pelted  him  with 
the  red  apples  instead. 

The  dream  brought  a  smile  to  the  pale  young 
lips. 

"  It  is  well,"  said  Mistress  Huntoon  to  her 
self,  watching  her;  "she  sleeps  and  she  smiles. 
Youth  will  do  the  rest."  After  bending  an  in 
stant  over  the  sleeper  she  left  her  and  slipped 
down  the  staircase  into  the  hall.  Romney  was 
walking  up  and  down.  At  the  foot  of  the  stair 
way  he  met  his  mother  and  kissed  her  hand,  as 
had  been  his  custom  from  babyhood.  They 
crossed  the  hall  and  sat  down  side  by  side  on 
the  wide  settle  before  the  fire. 

Then  a  silence  fell  between  them. 

£C  Alas,"  thought  the  mother,  "  when  did  ever 
my  boy  find  it  hard  to  speak  with  me  before  ? " 

"She  suspects  something,"  thought  her  son. 

This  was  not  the  truth ;  she  did  not  suspect, 
she  knew. 

"  Tell  me  now  of  all  that  hath  befallen 
thee  since  ever  'The  Lady  Betty  touched  at  St. 
Mary's." 

"  Nay,  tell  me  first  if  thou,  like  my  father,  hast 
forgiven  the  loss  of  the  dear  old  boat." 

267 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Speak  not  of  the  loss  of  a  boat  though  it  had 
held  half  our  fortune  when  thy  life  was  in  the 
scale.  Oh,  my  son,  my  son  !  " 

The  mother  covered  her  face  with  her  hands 
and  fell  to  weeping,  not  so  much,  to  tell  the 
truth,  because  her  son  might  have  been  lost  to 
her,  as  because  he  had  been. 

Romney,  shrewd  as  he  thought  himself,  never 
dreamed  of  what  was  passing  in  her  mind. 

"  Now  then,  little  Mother,  cheer  up  !  What's 
the  use  of  weeping  when  thou  hast  me  here  safe 
and  sound  ?  As  for  my  adventures,  they  have 
in  truth  been  many  and  wonderful.  To  begin 
at  the  beginning,  I  found  St.  Mary's  mightily 
dull  till  I  did  make  acquaintance  with  Mistress 
Neville  and  her  niece  who  is  with  us  here." 

"  Neville,  so  that  is  her  name  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course,  Neville,  —  Peggy  Neville," 
Romney  said  the  name  slowly  as  if  it  were  music 
in  his  ears.  "  'T  was  at  their  house,  Mother,  I 
met  Governor  Brent,  and  he  did  make  particular 
inquiry  for  my  father,  and  said  the  fame  of  his 
courage  and  wisdom  was  spread  beyond  the 
boundaries  of  Virginia." 

This  was  a  good  feint  on  the  boy's  part  and 
drew  his  mother's  attention  for  the  moment. 

"  Said  he  so  indeed  P  Why,  't  was  right  civilly 
spoke.  I  trust  thou  didst  return  what  courtesy 
thou  couldst  to  the  Governor." 

268 


Romney 

"  Yes,  and  no.  I  did  him  some  small  favors  ; 
but  in  the  end  I  robbed  him  of  his  prisoner." 

"  Romney  !  " 

"  Ay,  that  did  I,  and  would  do  it  again.  The 
man  was  falsely  accused." 

"  Accused  of  what  ?  " 

"  Murder." 

Elizabeth  Huntoon's  face  fell.  She  dearly 
loved  the  atmosphere  of  respectability,  and  had 
no  mind  to  be  mixed  up  with  a  felony.  Her 
son  paid  little  heed  to  her  expression. 

"Oh,  but  'twas  shrewdly  planned,  —  Peggy 
and  I  —  " 


Romney  could  have  bitten  his  tongue  out. 
The  mischief  was  done.  He  halted,  stammered, 
and  finally  resolved  to  throw  himself  on  his 
mother's  mercy,  which  he  might  better  have 
done  in  the  beginning. 

"  Yes,  Peggy !  —  the  sweetest  name  for  the 
sweetest  girl  in  the  colonies.  When  thou  dost 
know  her  better,  Mother,  thou  wilt  say  so  too." 

"  Thou  dost  not  seem  to  have  needed  long 
knowledge  to  find  it  out ;  but  thou  must  needs 
remember  that  all  thou  hast  told  me  of  her  so 
far  is  that  she  is  sister  to  a  murderer." 

"  Mother  !  "  cried  Romney,  flinging  off  his 
mother's  hand  and  jumping  up  to  pace  the  floor. 

"  It  was  thou  who  didst  say  the  word." 
269 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Not  I.  Am  I  like  to  speak  such  a  foul  false 
hood  of  the  man  I  honor  most  in  the  world, 
next  to  my  father !  I  said  accused  of  murder,  — 
a  mighty  different  thing,  as  any  but  a  woman 
would  know." 

It  is  a  great  relief  to  a  man  to  vent  upon  the 
sex  a  charge  which  courtesy  and  respect  forbid 
his  laying  at  the  door  of  the  individual. 

"  Perhaps  it  will  be  set  down  to  the  curiosity 
of  my  sex  if  I  venture  to  ask  whom  this  high- 
souled  gentleman  is  supposed  to  have  put  out  of 
the  way." 

God  gave  sarcasm  to  woman  in  place  of  sinewy 
fists.  Poor  Romney  felt  his  heart  pommelled, 
but  being  in  the  right  and  knowing  it,  he  kept 
his  temper. 

"  I  '11  tell  thee  as  if  thou  hadst  asked  more 
kindly." 

The  shot  told,  for  it  was  deserved. 
"  Sir  Christopher  Neville  was  accused  of  killing 
a  Jesuit  priest,  —  one  of  those  who  dwell  at  St. 
Inigo's.  The  evidence  against  him  was  strong, 
and  Giles  Brent  credited  it,  though  he  had  great 
liking  for  Neville.  But  his  sister  is  much  under 
the  influence  of  c  those  of  the  Hill/  as  the  Jesuits 
are  called,  and  thou  thyself,  Mother,  dost  know 
how  much  that  order  is  to  be  trusted." 

Cleverly    aimed    again,    Romney!     He    knew 
that  his  mother  had  come  to  the  greatest  griefs 

270 


Romney 

of  her  life  through  the  machinations  of  a  follower 
of  St.  Ignatius;  already  she  weakened  a  little, 
though  her  face  did  not  betray  it. 

"  But  why  was  it  necessary  that  thou  shouldst 
be  caught  in  the  toils  ?  Neither  deed  nor  charge 
was  any  affair  of  thine.  What  was  it  all  to  thee  ?  " 

"What  was  it  to  my  father  when  thou  wert  in 
trouble  yonder  in  James  City  ?  " 

Elizabeth  Huntoon  trembled. 

"  Oh,  Romney,  is  it  gone  so  far,  in  one  little 
fortnight  ?  Remember  thy  father  had  known  and 
loved  me  for  years." 

"  Pshaw  !  "  said  Romney,  striding  up  and  down 
faster  than  ever,  crowding  his  hands  deep  into 
the  pockets  of  his  jerkin.  "  Is  there  any  calen 
dar  of  love  with  directions,  '  On  such  a  day  a  man 
may  take  a  liking,  after  so  many  days  he  may 
admire,  at  the  end  of  a  month,  or  three,  or  six, 
he  may  give  rein  to  his  fancy,  and  when  a  year 
is  out  he  may  love,  —  that  is,  if  his  mother  gives 
consent ' ?  " 

The  lad  was  growing  angry,  and  therefore  let 
ting  down  his  guard.  Trust  a  woman  for  seeing 
the  advantage  and  using  it !  Elizabeth  poked 
her  little  red  boots  out  to  the  fire  and  looked  at 
them  as  if  they  interested  her  more  than  any 
thing  in  the  world.  Then  as  though  the  ques 
tion  were  the  most  natural  and  casual  one  she 
asked,  — 

271 


Sir  Christopher 

"When  are  you  to  marry  ?" 

It  was  at  once  the  cruellest  and  the  kindest 
thing  she  could  have  said.  A  huge  sob  rose  in 
the  boy's  throat  and  choked  him.  Then  he 
threw  himself  on  his  knees  and  buried  his  head 
in  his  mother's  lap,  crying,  — 

"  Don't !     Don't  !     She  does  not  love  me  !  " 

"  Ask  her  !  " 

"  I  have  asked  her." 

Let  those  who  can,  explain  the  workings  of  a 
woman's  mind.  Perhaps  they  can  tell  why  Eliza 
beth  Huntoon,  who  five  minutes  before  had  set 
her  face  like  a  flint  against  this  love  affair,  of 
a  sudden  whiffed  about  like  a  weather-cock  and 
was  set  for  it  as  if  she  had  planned  it  herself  from 
the  beginning.  All  she  said  was,  — 

"  Then  why  did  she  ask  thy  help  ?  " 

"  She  did  not ;  I  offered  it,  —  nay,  forced  it 
upon  her ;  and  for  her  brother  she  would  do  any^ 
thing.  It 's  my  belief  he  is  the  only  human  being 
she  does  truly  love." 

"  All  the  better.  Love  for  a  brother  never 
yet  blocked  the  way  to  any  other.  But,  hark  !  I 
hear  her  stirring.  Belike  she  will  be  able  to  come 
down  for  supper.  Go  thou,  and  don  thy  scarlet 
sash  and  the  falling  band  with  lace  edge.  Oh,  and 
don't  forget  the  lace  cuffs  and  the  gold  lacings." 

"  Mother,  dost  take  thy  son  for  a  baby  or  a 


popinjay  ? 


272 


Romney 

cc  Neither,  but  for  the  dullard  he  is,  not  to 
know  that  dress  makes  as  much  difference  in 
men  as  in  women.  Why,  who  knows  but  I 
would  have  had  thy  father  a  year  earlier,  had  he 
paid  more  heed  to  his  attire  !  Go  !  Go  !  — 
Suppose  thou  hadst  never  come  !  "  Here  words 
failed  her,  and  she  caught  her  son  to  her  heart, 
cried  over  him  a  moment,  and  then  pushed  him 
toward  the  stairs. 


18  273 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE    EMERALD    TAG 

WITH  the  dignity  of  absolute  self-renun 
ciation  Elinor  took  up  the  cramped, 
new  existence  in  the  little  cottage  at  St. 
Mary's.  To  Cecil  it  was  but  a  play,  this  strange 
life  in  the  tiny  rooms,  where  the  great  four-post 
bed  seemed  an  elephant  in  a  toy  house,  and  the 
head  on  the  carved  chest  appeared  to  be  per 
petually  grinning  at  the  incongruity  of  its  sur 
roundings.  What  cared  the  child  for  narrow 
quarters,  while  in  the  evenings  he  could  lie  as  of 
old  before  the  fire,  and  in  sunny  spring  days 
could  wander  through  the  village  streets,  now  loi 
tering  on  the  wharf  to  watch  the  lumber  loading 
for  the  new  house  at  Cecil  Point  and  anon  paus 
ing  at  the  smithy  for  a  talk  with  the  blacksmith 
as  he  hammered  at  his  anvil  ? 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life  the  boy  was  learn 
ing  the  meaning  of  democracy.  The  best  gift 
money  can  offer  its  owners  is  the  aloofness 
afforded  by  wide  acres,  and  the  servants  who  act 
as  buffers  to  the  multitude  ;  but  the  eternal  laws 

274 


The  Emerald  Tag 

of  compensation  hold  here  as  everywhere,  and 
this  aristocratic  seclusion  is  bought  at  the  expense 
of  the  feeling  of  kinship  and  sympathy  with  the 
average  man. 

Elinor  realized  this,  and  it  reconciled  her  to 
much  that  was  trying  in  her  new  lot.  She  felt 
that  her  own  life  was  at  an  end,  the  last  page 
turned,  and  finis  written  on  that  day  when  Giles 
Brent  met  her  on  the  river  path  at  St.  Gabriel's 
and  told  her  that  the  waters  had  closed  over  the 
head  of  Christopher  Neville.  On  that  day  hope 
fell  dead ;  but  duty  lives  on  after  hope  has  died, 
and  then  there  was  always  Cecil. 

On  him  she  lavished  all  her  pent-up  love,  all 
the  unsatisfied  ambition  of  her  heart.  For  him 
she  planned  and  worked.  He  was  to  be  Lord  of 
the  Manor,  then  Councillor,  then  perhaps  in  the 
far-off  days  Governor  of  the  Province,  and  always 
an  honor  to  the  Calvert  name.  Already  men  were 
at  work  building  the  house  at  Cecil  Point,  and 
the  wood-chopper's  axe  rang  merrily  among  the 
giant  trees  that  must  fall  to  clear  the  fields  and 
make  them  ready  for  their  burden  of  wheat  and 
maize  and  tobacco. 

The  superintendence  of  all  this,  combined  with 
the  keeping  of  the  little  house  at  St.  Mary's,  filled 
Elinor's  days  so  full  that  she  had  scant  time  for 
grieving ;  but  when  Cecil  was  in  bed  and  asleep, 
and  Elinor  sat  by  the  fire  alone  with  memory, 

275 


Sir  Christopher 

then,  indeed,  the  struggle  was  a  bitter  one,  and 
often  her  head  was  bowed  upon  the  table  and  the 
candle-light  shone  upon  a  figure  shaken  by  a 
storm  of  tears  and  sobs.  Yet  each  time,  after  the 
storm  and  stress  came  peace,  as  she  betook  her 
self  to  her  closet  and  her  beads.  In  nothing  has 
the  Catholic  faith  a  stronger  hold  on  men's  hearts 
than  in  the  tie  its  creed  furnishes  between  the 
living  and  the  dead,  in  the  belief  that  the  prayers 
of  those  who  kneel  before  the  altar  do  still  reach 
forth  to  help  and  succor  those  who  lie  beneath 
the  pavements  of  the  church. 

Elinor,  too,  had  her  private  liturgy  addressed 
to  Christopher,  which  she  recited  as  the  bells 
tolled  the  hours  of  devotion.  At  matins  she 
said,  — 

"  May  the  coming  day  grant  me  opportunity 
to  serve  thee  and  honor  thy  name  !  " 

At  prime :  "  May  thine  innocence  dawn  upon 
those  who  doubt  thee  as  the  glory  of  the  morning 
rises  on  the  world  of  shadows  !  " 

At  vespers  :  "  So  ends  another  day  which  did 
separate  thee  and  me." 

And  at  complines  :  "  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep. 
May  our  souls  meet  in  the  world  of  dreams  here 
and  the  world  of  spirits  hereafter  !  " 

Elinor  never  spoke  to  Father  White  of  Neville, 
for  she  knew  full  well  that  to  the  priest  he  was 
accursed  as  a  heretic  if  not  as  a  murderer,  and  she 

276 


The  Emerald  Tag 

felt  that  she  could  only  talk  of  him  with  one  who 
held  him  as  she  did. 

Often  in  these  lonely  days  did  her  heart  yearn 
toward  Peggy,  who  was  known  at  St.  Mary's  to 
have  been  rescued  from  the  ketch  and  to  have 
made  her  home  with  the  Huntoons  ;  but  some 
thing  within  her,  whether  pride  or  penance,  for 
bade.  She  remembered  the  scorn  in  Peggy's 
voice  as  she  reproached  her  with  her  doubts  of 
Christopher,  and  she  felt  how  idle  it  would  be 
now  to  try  to  persuade  the  girl  that  her  faith 
was  as  strong  as  her  own.  Some  day,  she  told 
herself,  when  her  prayer  had  been  answered,  her 
struggles  rewarded,  and  she  had  shown  forth 
Christopher's  innocence  to  the  world,  then  she 
would  write  in  tender  triumph  and  bid  Peggy 
come  to  her  and  be  her  little  sister  for  lite. 

The  chief  comfort  of  all  to  her  troubled  soul 
lay  in  this  task  she  had  set  herself  as  her  life- 
work,  —  the  proving  to  the  world  of  Neville's 
innocence.  Baffled  at  every  turn,  she  never  gave 
up,  but  followed  every  hint  of  a  clue  and  rejoiced 
to  find  here  and  there  men  and  women  who  be 
lieved  in  Neville  as  earnestly  as  she. 

Of  all  these  friends  in  need,  one  was  more 
helpful,  more  comforting,  more  sustaining  than 
all  the  rest.  Margaret  Brent  was  like  a  granite 
cliff  against  which  the  waves  beat  mightily,  but 
could  not  prevail.  Had  her  nature  sharp  peaks, 

277 


Sir  Christopher 

crevasses,  and  unsunned  slopes  ?  In  times  of 
storm  one  thought  not  of  these,  but  of  the  rock's 
protection  and  the  solid  barrier  against  the  fury 
of  the  tempest.  The  very  bluntness  of  her 
shrewd  comments  on  Elinor's  conduct  of  life 
held  a  certain  tonic.  The  people  who  help  us 
most  are  those  who  make  light  of  our  achieve 
ments,  and  have  faith  in  our  possibilities. 

As  Elinor  compared  Margaret  with  her  sister 
Mary,  she  felt  how  unenlightened  her  former 
judgments  had  been.  Mary  Brent's  virtues  were 
for  times  of  sunshine.  Hospitality,  tranquillity, 
pious  observances,  marked  her  placid  progress 
through  the  world  ;  but  when  the  final  test  came, 
it  laid  bare  under  these  qualities  narrowness  of 
mind  and  bigotry  of  soul  and  that  hardness  which 
sometimes  underlies  suavity.  Her  white  eyelids, 
with  their  light  lashes,  never  quivered  as  she  pro 
nounced  Neville  guilty  and  bade  Elinor  renounce 
him  and  his  memory.  Elinor  would  not  ?  Then 
they  were  best  apart,  and  she  would  not  under 
take  to  dissuade  her  cousin  from  her  plan  of  tak 
ing  up  her  abode  at  Cecil  Point.  When  she 
bade  Cecil  good-bye,  a  brief  spasm  seemed  to  tear 
her  heart ;  but  it  passed,  leaving  the  face  as  un 
ruffled  as  ever,  and  it  was  with  a  feeling  of  relief 
that  Elinor  turned  from  her  to  the  wilderness. 

At  first  sight  the  cottage  at  St.  Mary's  had 
seemed  impossible  for  one  of  Elinor  Calvert's 

278 


The  Emerald  Tag 

birth  and  upbringing ;  but  outward  things  had  no 
power  to  trouble  her  now,  and  she  set  to  work 
with  a  certain  sense  of  pleasurable  independence 
to  brighten  the  little  house  for  Cecil's  sake. 

Her  chief  helper  was  Bride,  an  old  nurse  of 
Cecil's  who  had  come  to  the  new  land  with  her 
boy  and  who  now  proved  herself  as  reliable  in  the 
kitchen  as  in  the  nursery.  She  was  a  picturesque 
figure  enough  in  her  short  stuff  gown  with  bright 
stockings  and  heavy  shoes,  a  white  kerchief  folded 
above  her  checked  apron,  and  a  ruffled  cap  cov 
ering  her  gray  hair. 

Her  only  wish  was  to  serve  her  mistress,  her 
only  joy  to  prepare  good  things  for  Cecil  to  eat, 
her  only  terror  fear  of  these  strange  blacks  whom 
people  seemed  to  take  into  their  houses  as  if  they 
were  human  beings  like  the  white  folk,  instead 
of  uncanny  creatures  of  whom  any  deviltry  might 
be  expected. 

«  Do  ye  think,  Master  Cecil,  the  black  would 
come  off  if  ye  touched  one  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  know  not ;  I  never  tried.  Come  here, 
Lysander!  There,  stand  still  while  I  rub  you 
with  this  white  cloth.  See,  Bride,  the  cloth  is  not 
black,  no  more  than  if  you  rubbed  it  on  a  black 
cow  or  any  other  beast." 

"  Ay,  it 's  beasts  they  are,  and  not  men  at  all, 
and  it's  none  of  them  I  be  wanting  about  my 
kitchen.  Let  them  bring  water  from  the  well 

279 


Sir  Christopher 

and  leave  it  at  the  door,  and  then  be  off  out  of 
my  sight  before  one  of  them  casts  the  evil  eye  on 
me.  And  the  females  are  worse  than  the  males  ; 
they  're  like  black  witches." 

"  Bride ! " 

"Ay,  my  bairn!" 

"  Ye  remember  the  murder  of  Father  Mohl  ?  " 

"  Am  I  like  to  forget  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  Ve  been  thinking  't  was  not  like  a  man 
to  kill  a  priest  like  that.  Do  you  think  it  might 
have  been  a  black  witch  that  was  riding  through 
the  forest  on  a  broomstick,  and  did  it  with  a 
witch  knife,  —  you  know  they  have  them  that 
they  copy  from  real  ones." 

"  What's  this  talk  of  witches  and  witch  knives?" 
It  was  Ralph  Ingle  who  spoke.  He  stood  lean 
ing  against  the  door,  his  hair  falling  light  against 
his  suit  of  huntsman's  green  with  leather  trim 
mings,  in  his  hands  a  string  of  wild  ducks. 

"  Oh,  Master  Ingle  !  "  cried  Cecil,  jumping  up 
and  down  and  clapping  his  hands,  "  you  have 
been  shooting  again  and  when,  oh,  when  will  you 
take  me  with  you  as  you  did  promise  ?  " 

"When  Mistress  Neville  grants  her  gracious 
permission ;  and,  Cecil,  do  you  think  ever  you 
could  gain  her  consent  to  another  thing  ?  " 

"  What  thing  ?  " 

"  To  her  accepting  me  as  a  tenant  at  Cecil 
Point." 

280 


The  Emerald  Tag 

Cecil  shook  his  yellow  curls  and  set  his  mouth 
in  droll  imitation  of  his  mother's  determined 
look. 

"  Cannot  be!  Mother  says  we  shall  never  have 
a  tenant  at  the  Point." 

"  Not  till  the  sea  gives  up  its  dead/'  said 
Elinor,  coming  to  the  door  and  laying  her  arm 
about  Cecil's  shoulder. 

At  Mistress  Calvert's  approach  Ingle  bent  for 
ward  with  that  unconscious  deference  which  is 
the  most  subtle  flattery,  as  though  the  soul  stood 
at  attention  before  its  superior. 

"  Say  no  more,  I  pray  you,"  said  Elinor, 
c'"  though  I  know  you  do  speak  but  out  of  kind 
ness  and  deep  thoughtfulness  for  me.  You  have 
been  hunting,"  she  added,  striving  to  turn  the 
conversation. 

"  Ay,  and  have  brought  the  spoils  to  lay  at 
your  feet,"  adding  under  his  breath,  "  where  my 
heart  still  lies." 

Elinor  colored  and  shook  her  head,  but,  feeling 
that  refusal  were  ungracious,  she  took  the  ducks 
from  his  hand,  stroked  the  plumage,  and  bade 
Cecil  carry  them  to  Bride. 

Ingle  watched  Cecil  disappear*  with  the  birds 
over  his  arm,  then  he  leaned  across  the  door  near 
Elinor. 

"  You  are  more  beautiful  than  ever,"  he  said. 

"  I  have  outgrown  the  age  of  flatteries,  Master 
281 


Sir  Christopher 

Ingle.  Beauty  belongs  to  youth  and  joy,  and 
both  have  left  me  forever." 

"  One  type  of  beauty  belongs  to  these.  At 
St.  Gabriel's  yonder  you  were  beautiful  like  a 
great  lady  of  the  court.  To-day  you  are  beauti 
ful  like  the  Blessed  Virgin." 

"  Hush  !  You  speak  something  akin  to  blas 
phemy." 

"  Nay,  not  a  whit.  Did  not  the  old  masters 
paint  Our  Lady  from  the  women  around  them, 
and  none  so  fair  as  you  ? " 

"  A  pretty  model  for  a  sacred  figure  I  should 
make,  with  my  homespun  apron  and  a  bunch  of 
keys  in  my  hand." 

"  They  might  be  the  keys  of  Heaven  if  the 
hand  were  in  mine." 

"  Master  Ingle,  I  have  told  you  more  than 
once  that  I  could  listen  to  no  such  talk  from 
you." 

"  Your  word  is  law,"  said  Ingle,  bowing  low. 
Then  with  a  swift  turn  of  the  tide  of  talk,  "  I 
must  tell  you  how  narrow  an  escape  these  ducks 
had  from  becoming  food  for  some  dirty  red  man 
instead  of  lying  in  state  on  your  table.  I  shot 
them  on  the  river  a  day  or  two  since.  Father 
White  asked  me  to  go  with  him  as  interpreter  on 
a  mission  among  the  Patuxents.  We  took  a  boat 
and  two  chests,  one  containing  clothing  along 
with  bread  and  butter  and  cheese  and  corn,  and 

282 


The  Emerald  Tag 

another  containing  bottles  of  wine  for  the  eucha- 
rist  and  holy  water  for  baptism.  But  in  the  night 
the  savages  broke  into  the  tent  where  that  dolt 
of  a  servant  slept,  and  stole  the  sacramental  wine 
and  our  chest  of  clothing  and  all  the  food  save 
one  pat  of  butter  and  a  cheese-cake. 

cc  Father  White  was  so  pleased  that  the  sacred 
vessels  were  untouched  that  he  fell  on  his  knees, 
giving  thanks  as  though  the  whole  affair  were  a 
great  mercy ;  and  for  me,  to  tell  the  truth,  when  I 
found  the  ducks  I  did  shoot  for  you  were  still 
there,  I  heeded  no  other  loss." 

Elinor  came  nearer  to  a  smile  than  the  last 
month  had  witnessed.  There  was  consolation  in 
knowing  that  there  was  still  some  one  to  whom 
she  was  first,  whose  only  thought  was  the  grati 
fication  of  her  tastes  and  fancies. 

"They  are  in  the  nick  of  time,"  she  said,  "  to 
garnish  our  supper  to-night,  when  I  do  expect  my 
cousin,  Margaret  Brent,  who  comes  to  spend  some 
time  under  my  roof.  Perhaps  you  will  join  us." 

"Thanks,  fair  hostess;  but  Mistress  Margaret 
Brent  and  I  agree  not  as  well  as  I  and  her  brother 
and  sister.  Besides,  I  did  promise  the  Governor 
to  be  back  this  night  at  St.  Gabriel's." 

"  Master  Ingle  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Cecil." 

"  Will  you  pass  by  the  road  where  Father 
Mohl  was  murdered  ?  " 

283 


Sir  Christopher 


Ingle  started.  He  loved  not  ghostly  thoughts 
nor  sad  memories. 

"  Not  I,"  he  said  hastily;  "but  by  the  main 
road." 

"  I  am  sorry." 

"  Why  ?  "  ' 

"  I  wanted  so  much  to  have  you  look  in  the 
branches  of  the  tree  and  see  if  by  chance  you  saw 
any  scrap  of  cloth  that  did  look  like  the  cloaking 
of  a  witch." 

"  Hush,  Cecil ! "  cried  Elinor,  clasping  her 
hands  over  the  boy's  mouth.  "  Drop  no  hint 
that  might  spread  another  calumny.  We  who 
are  suffering  from  that  dread  scourge  should  see 
to  it  that  we  lay  not  the  lash  to  the  back  of 
another.  Whoever  the  guilty  one  is,  we  must 
leave  him  to  God,  and  I  believe  in  my  heart  his 
suffering  is  greater  than  mine,  or  than  any  that 
ever  Christopher  Neville  knew." 

"  Think  you  all  souls  are  as  sensitive  as 
thine  ?  "  asked  Ingle,  gazing  with  reverence  into 
the  face  so  near  and  yet  so  infinitely  far  away. 

"  I  know  not ;  but  I  can  conceive  no  nature  so 
base  that  it  would  not  writhe  to  see  its  just  cen 
sure  borne  by  another ;  and  to  be  so  sunk  in  sin 
as  to  feel  nothing,  —  why,  that  would  be  most 
pitiable  of  all." 

"  It  would/'  answered  Ingle,  and  stood  musing 
a  moment;  then  he  moved  slowly  away,  walking 

284 


The  Emerald  Tag 

backward  that  he  might  keep  Elinor  in  view  till 
the  last.  "  Good-bye,"  he  said  finally,  and  turning 
strode  hastily  toward  the  gate  nearest  St.  Gabriel's. 

Elinor  stood  long  in  the  doorway  gazing  after 
him,  and  then  when  he  had  quite  vanished,  gazing 
on  into  vacancy  like  one  who  sees  the  unseen  and 
holds  converse  with  spirits. 

"  Come,  Cecil,"  she  said  at  last,  shaking  off  her 
lethargy  with  an  effort,  "fetch  a  pitcher,  and  we 
will  go  down  to  the  Governor's  Spring  and  draw 
water  fresher  than  that  which  flows  in  our  well." 

Nothing  loath,  Cecil  slipped  one  hand  in  his 
mother's  and  with  the  other  swung  the  earthen 
pitcher  to  and  fro,  to  the  imminent  risk  of  its 
brown  nose. 

When  they  reached  the  spring  the  two  seated 
themselves  on  the  stone  curb  with  which  by  Cal- 
vert's  orders  the  spring  had  been  walled  about. 
From  the  gravelly  bank  above,  a  group  of  tiny 
rivulets  tumbled  over  each  other  in  a  laughing  cas 
cade.  Held  for  a  moment  in  the  stone  basin,  they 
wandered  onward  to  water  the  dell  shaded  by  its 
thick  growth  of  sycamores,  elms,  and  holly-trees. 

Spring  was  misting  all  the  foliage  with  green, 
not  the  rich  verdure  of  summer,  but  a  tender 
yellow,  deepening  here  and  there  into  the  full 
green  glory  of  unfolded  leaves. 

Cecil  leaned  far  over  the  curb,  and  laughed  at 
his  reflection  in  the  spring. 
L   285 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Do  thou  lean  too.  Mother,  with  thy  cheek 
near  mine,  that  I  may  thee  if  thou  dotht  in  truth 
look  ath  much  like  me  ath  folk  say." 

As  he  spoke  Cecil  gave  a  little  tug  at  his 
mother's  sleeve  and  drew  her  to  the  margin,  where 
she  too  stooped  and  looked  down  smiling  at  the 
golden  curls  and  rosy  cheeks  of  her  boy  looking 
up  at  her  from  the  water. 

An  instant  later  she  caught  another  reflection, 
the  face  of  a  red  man  peering  from  the  bushes 
over  her  shoulder.  With  an  inward  start  she 
realized  that  they  were  on  a  by-path  and  beyond 
call  of  help. 

"  Come,  Cecil,"  she  cried,  striving  to  speak 
lightly,  though  she  was  conscious  that  her  voice 
shook.  cc  Pick  up  thy  pitcher,  for  we  must  be 
going.  Make  haste,  too,  lest  Cousin  Margaret 
be  at  the  house  before  us." 

"  Nay,  Mother,  't  ith  tho  fair  beautiful  here," 
began  Cecil,  turning  toward  his  mother  with  plead 
ing  in  his  voice. 

As  he  turned,  his  eyes  too  caught  the  Indian's 
face  even  as  it  was  withdrawn  into  the  shadow. 

"  Why,  't  is  the  same  native  I  did  see  on  the 
wharf—  " 

"  Never  mind,  Cecil,  who  or  what  it  is,  but 
make  good  speed  for  home  and  I  will  follow. 
There,  give  me  the  pitcher.  Now,  run  !  " 

They  reached  the  cottage  door  panting  and  out 
286 


The  Emerald  Tag 

of  breath  just  as  Margaret  Brent  was  dismount 
ing  from  her  donkey. 

Elinor  ran  on  still  faster  to  greet  her.  It  was 
the  first  time  they  had  met  since  the  midnight 
mass  at  St.  Gabriel's.  The  older  woman  took 
her  in  her  arms. 

"  So  you  could  not  go  on  living  with  Mary  ? 
Neither  could  I.  She  is  a  good  woman,  better 
belike  than  either  you  or  I,  yet  —  well,  different. 
And  when  she  has  once  made  her  decision,  angels 
and  archangels  could  not  move  her.  Never  mind, 
we  must  win  the  fight  without  her." 

"  Oh,  Margaret,  do  you  think  there  is  any  ray 
of  light  ?  " 

"  Foolish  child,  waste  no  energy  in  wondering 
when  light  will  come;  but  stumble  on  in  the 
darkness  as  best  you  may.  I  have  several  scouts 
from  Kent  Fort  scouring  the  trail  between  St. 
Mary's  and  St.  Gabriel's.  So  far  they  have  met 
with  little  success,  except  for  one  trifle,  —  one  tiny 
straw,  —  yet  it  may  show  the  set  of  the  wind." 

"  What  ?  Oh,  what  ?  " 

"  Why,  Master  Halfehead  found  by  the  side 
of  the  path,  on  the  low  bough  of  a  bush  not  ten 
paces  from  where  the  priest's  body  hung,  the  tag 
of  a  point  such  as  men  use  to  lace  hose  and 
breeches  together.  It  had  a  bit  of  the  green 
point  hanging  to  it  still." 

"  But  any  might  have  worn  that." 
287 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Not  such  a  tag  as  this.  It  was  made  of 
wrought  gold  and  had  an  emerald  brilliant  set  at 
the  tip's  end.  That  tiny  green  gem  must  be  our 
guiding  star." 

"  But  how  to  follow  it  ?  " 

"  Listen  !  where  there  is  one  point  there  are 
two,  and  each  point  has  two  tags;  therefore,  some 
where  in  this  province,  there  must  be  three  tags 
of  wrought  gold  with  a  tiny  emerald  at  the  tip. 
It  is  our  business  to  find  them." 

"  But  if  we  find  them,  what  then  ?  Master 
Huntoon  or  Giles  Brent  or  one  of  your  scouts 
might  have  dropped  this." 

"  Nay,  I  'd  stake  my  life  that  if  we  find  the 
tag  we  find  the  murderer  — " 

"  What  gives  you  such  assurance  ?  " 

"  Why,  't  is  clear  as  day.  The  point  was  of 
stout  ribbon,  somewhat  broader  than  the  ordinary 
lacing.  Now  that  could  have  been  torn  off  only 
by  some  one  running  and  not  without  the  knowl 
edge  of  the  runner.  Being  of  some  value,  it  was 
well  worth  picking  up  or  going  back  to  search 
for,  unless  the  runner  had  some  reason  for  haste 
which  made  him  willing  to  sacrifice  the  tag  rather 
than  stay  to  look  for  it." 

"  Oh,  Margaret,  how  many  shrewd  ideas  thou 
hast !  Would  I  had  a  tithe  of  them  !  " 

"  Ideas  come  with  wrinkles,  my  dear,  and  are 
bought  at  a  cost  of  years  beyond  their  value.  As 

288 


The  Emerald  Tag 


for  shrewdness,  't  is  a  mean  virtue  at  best,  and 
not  to  be  compared  with  warmth  of  heart  like 
thine,  that  draws  all  toward  thee  like  bees  to 
the  red  clover.  Yet  shrewdness  has  its  value. 
Therefore  am  I  now  full  of  interest  in  talk  of 
points  and  lacings  with  every  man  I  meet,  and  I 
leave  not  off  the  subject  till  I  have  learned  with 
what  manner  of  points  the  man  and  his  brothers 
and  his  cousins  and  his  wife's  relatives  do  lace 
together  hose  and  breeches.  There,  that  is  the 
whole  of  my  budget  of  news." 

"  And  thou  art  an  angel  to  bring  it ;  but  hav 
ing  still  some  human  nature,  thou  must  needs 
eat,  and  Bride  has  set  out  the  table  with  our  best 
linen  in  honor  of  thy  coming,  and  has  cooked 
some  rare  ducks  which  Master  Ingle  did  bring 
to  the  door  this  morning." 

"  Does  Ralph  Ingle  come  here  often  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes  and  no.  Never  to  stay  long,  yet 
often  in  going  and  coming  for  a  brief  converse 
at  the  door." 

"  Dost  thou  like  him  P " 

"  Faith,  Margaret,  I  think  I  have  no  place  in 
my  heart  warm  enough  for  liking,  save  of  old 
friends  ;  but  Cecil  is  overjoyed  to  see  him,  and 
Father  White  oft  sends  him  here  of  an  errand." 

"  'T  is  easy  to  see  why." 

"  Yes,    thou    art    shrewd    as    ever,    Margaret, 
Father  White   would    be    glad  to    see    me    wed 
'9  289 


Sir  Christopher 

now  that  he  has  returned  to  the  bosom  of  Holy 
Church  after  long  wandering.  He  accompanies 
the  Father  on  his  missions,  and  renders  much 
service  as  interpreter.  Ingle  himself  has  given 
up  all  thought  of  marriage,  but  would  fain  be 
our  true  friend,  and  asked  me  this  morning  to 
consider  of  him  as  a  tenant  at  Cecil  Manor." 

"  Be  thine  own  tenant,  Cousin.  Trust  me,  't  is 
safer." 

"  Ay,  so  I  think,  and  so  I  have  decided.  I 
am  very  ignorant,  but  the  manor  cannot  be  ready 
for  habitation  till  next  year,  and  ere  a  year  is  over 
I  hope  to  learn  much." 

"  And  I  will  help  thee.  Count  upon  me. 
Ah,  Cecil,  how  fares  it  with  thee?" 

"  I  do  well,  Couthin  Margaret,  yet  I  like  not 
St.  Mary's  as  well  as  St.  Gabriel's,  and  in  the 
summer  't  will  be  worth." 

"  In  the  summer  thou  and  thy  mother  are  to 
come  to  me  at  Kent  Island.  What  fine  breeches 
thou  dost  wear,  Cecil  !  " 

"  Ay,  they  are  my  best,  and  donned  for  thee." 

"  And  with  such  pretty  points,  knowst  thou 
any  other  that  wears  points  as  fine  ?  " 

"Why,  Couthin  Giles  hath  points  of  azure  silk 
with  tags  of  silver,  and  Counthillor  Neale  wears 
rich  ribbon  points  tipped  with  crystal,  and  the 
other  day  I  saw  an  Indian,  and  on  his  blanket 
was  fastened  a  single  point  of  green  silk,  and  — 

290 


The  Emerald  Tag 


what  think  you  ?  —  the  tag  was  of  wrought  gold 
with  an  emerald  in  the  end.  It  made  me  laugh 
to  see  it  worn  like  that.  Oh,  and,  Mother,  't  was 
the  same  Indian  we  saw  to-day  in  the  butheth  by 
the  Governor's  Spring.  'Twath  that  I  strove  to 
tell  thee,  but  thou  wouldtht  not  hear/' 

The  two  women  looked  at  each  other  and 
turned  pale. 

"This  Indian  —  who  was  he  —  did  ever  you 
see  him  before  ?  " 

"  Nay,  't  was  on  the  wharf,  and  he  was  selling 
tobacco  and  shells ;  none  knew  him,  for  I  asked." 

cc  Margaret,  oh,  Margaret,  surely  now  we  have 
found  the  guilty  man." 

"  Not  so  fast,  Elinor  !  The  Indian  got  that 
point  of  a  white  man.  The  question  is,  was  it 
before  or  after  the  murder." 

The  smile  faded  out  of  Elinor  Calvert's  face_ 
and  she  drew  a  deep  sigh. 

"  Only  another  blind  lead,"  she  murmured. 

"  Only  another  link  in  the  chain,"  said  Mar 
garet.  "  Be  of  good  cheer.  You  and  I  are  not 
women  to  fail  in  an  undertaking  into  which  we 
have  put  our  whole  hearts.  Depend  upon  it,  we 
shall  trace  the  owner  of  the  emerald  tag  yet." 


291 


CHAPTER   XIX 

s 

THE    ROLLING    YEAR 

"  TS  he  better  to-day?" 

"  Better  in  body  ;   but  for  the  mind  I 

-^  can  see  little  betterment." 

Elizabeth  sighed  at  her  husband's  words. 
Months  had  gone  by  since  Christopher  Neville 
was  borne  into  the  house  on  his  litter.  Winter 
had  thawed  into  spring,  spring  had  bourgeoned 
and  bloomed  itself  into  summer,  and  summer 
had  dropped  its  green  mantle  and  taken  on  the 
dusky  sadness  of  autumn  with  its  intervals  of 
Indian  summer's  hazy  glory,  and  now  winter  was 
here  again.  Not  last  year's  icy  winter  with  the 
cruel  chill  of  the  north  bearing  down  on  the  un- 
preparedness  of  the  south  ;  but  a  genial,  soft, 
out-of-doors  winter  with  roses  blooming  to  deck 
the  burial  of  the  old  year  and  welcome  the  birth 
of  the  new,  to  hearten  the  struggling  and  revive 
the  sick. 

"  Surely,"  they  said,  "  this  weather  must  put 
new  life  into  Neville." 

292 


The  Rolling  Year 

It  was  only  in  the  inner  circle  that  they  named 
him.  To  the  outer  world  he  was  u  the  guest," 
or  when  need  was,  "  Master  John."  Often  when 
alone  Huntoon  asked  himself  what  would  happen 
if  Brent  caught  wind  of  Neville's  being  alive,  and 
made  requisition  upon  Berkeley  for  his  return. 
It  would  make  an  awkward  entanglement,  Hun- 
toon  admitted ;  but  he  vowed  to  himself  that 
there  should  be  a  stiff  fight  before  the  prisoner 
was  taken  from  Romney,  and  those  who  knew 
Huntoon's  character  and  the  look  of  his  upper  lip 
would  have  been  slow  to  undertake  the  capture. 

In  the  first  months  under  the  doctor's  skilful 
treatment,  the  invalid  had  gained  rapidly,  and 
the  household  rejoiced.  Then  Nature  cried  a 
halt.  The  color  came  back  to  the  pallid  cheeks, 
strength  to  the  limbs,  but  the  old  light  in  the 
eyes  never  returned.  A  lassitude  marked  all 
motions.  A  gentle  thoughtfulness  showed  itself 
in  word  and  deed  ;  but  they  were  as  the  words  and 
deeds  of  a  child  dealing  with  the  present  alone. 
The  blow  from  the  bowsprit  or  the  shock  of 
the  water  or  both  together,  falling  on  nerves  so 
terribly  overwrought,  had  unseated  reason  and 
dethroned  memory,  at  least  made  a  gap  which 
the  wandering  mind  was  powerless  to  fill. 

Neville  dwelt  much  in  the  world  of  his  child 
hood,  fancied  himself  riding  along  English  lanes, 
and  pulling  briar  and  eglantine  in  the  valleys  of 

293 


Sir  Christopher 

Surrey  and  Somerset  with  Peggv  by  his  side 
Then  his  imagination  led  to  a  beautiful  golden- 
haired  girl  who  went  robed  in  green  holding  her 
self  like  some  stately  palm. 

He  remembered  watching  her  walking  over 
close-cropped  lawn,  and  dancing  galliards  on  pol 
ished  floors.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  loved 
her  in  that  strange  far  away  world,  and  he  could 
recall  vaguely  a  pang  of  regret  when  he  heard 
that  she  was  married.  Then  a  blank  and  nothing 
more  till  he  found  himself  here  in  this  hospitable 
home,  with  Peggy  still  beside  him  ministering  to 
him  without  ceasing,  and  the  circle  of  friendly 
faces  about.  He  knew  neither  curiosity  nor  sad 
ness.  It  was  well  with  him,  and  he  asked  nothing 
but  to  stay  as  he  was. 

"  That  is  the  worst  of  the  case,"  said  Master 
Huntoon  to  his  wife.  "  If  Neville  were  discon 
tented  or  unhappy,  it  would  show  that  there 
was  some  half-conscious  memory  at  work  in  his 
mind ;  as  it  is,  I  have  little  hope.  And  such  a 
man !  Faith,  Brent  must  have  been  mad  to  be 
lieve  anything  evil  of  that  broad,  open  brow.  I 
have  seen  many  criminals  in  my  time,  Betty,  and 
I  know  the  look  of  them  ;  but  there  is  another 
look  —  the  look  of  a  man  who  might  commit  a 
crime  if  the  motive  were  strong  enough — I  know 
that  too;  and  then  there  is  yet  another  face  that 
God  keeps  for  the  man  who  is  to  play  a  man's 

294 


The  Rolling  Year 

part  in  the  world,  to  do  and  dare  and  bear  bravely 
the  worst  Fate  can  lay  upon  him,  and  that  is  the 
face  of  Christopher  Neville." 

"Alas  that  his  mind  should  have  died  before 
the  body  ! " 

"  Nay,  Betty,  let  us  not  give  it  up  so  easily. 
Memory  may  be  gone  and  judgment  even,  and 
yet  the  vital  spark  linger.  Thought  is  the 
breath  of  the  soul.  While  that  lasts  there  is  life, 
and  Christopher's  thought  is  as  beautiful  and  as 
pure  as  the  heaven  above  us." 

"  Ay,  that 's  God's  truth." 

"  More  than  that,  I  have  seen  in  him  now  and 
then  a  glimpse  of  recognition  of  earth  as  though 
the  soul  were  shaking  off  its  lethargy.  Were  the 
real  world  a  less  sad  one  for  him,  I  might  be 
tempted  to  try  to  call  him  back  by  mention  of  the 
Brents  or  Mistress  Calvert." 

"  Oh,  that  woman  !  "  exclaimed  Elizabeth  ; 
"not  a  word  from  her  in  all  these  weeks." 

"  You  forget.     She  counts  him  dead." 

"  Ay,  but  she  might  have  written  to  Peggy." 

"  Yet  when  Peggy's  aunt  wrote  it  did  not  suit 
dice." 

"I  should  say  not.  Such  a  letter!  It  was  as 
well  Christopher  was  dead,  since  he  had  brought 
such  disgrace  on  the  name,  but  Peggy  might 
come  back  to  her  if  she  chose.  Oh,  but  it  was 
good  to  see  the  answer  Peggy  sent,  and  how  she 

295 


Sir  Christopher 

scorned  aid  or  protection  from  any  that  doubted 
her  brother's  innocence." 

"Perhaps  Mistress  Calvert  feared  a  like  rebuff, 
for  she  and  Peggy  did  not  part  in  love.  Besides, 
thou  must  not  forget  that  she  has  much  to  con 
tend  with.  She  is  a  Catholic  and  under  the 
tutelage  of  Jesuit  priests." 

"  'Tis  well  I  know  what  their  influence  is.  If 
I  were  Lord  Baltimore,  I  would  harry  them  all 
out  of  the  province." 

"Ay,  but  thou  art  not  Lord  Baltimore  nor 
called  upon  for  the  Christian  task  of  harrying  out 
of  the  land  a  band  of  brave  men." 

"  Thou  dost  defend  them  ?  " 

"  Nay,  there  be  few  things  in  which  they  and 
I  think  alike  ;  but  this  I  do  say  :  There  is  no 
chapter  in  her  history  to  which  the  Church  has 
better  right  to  point  with  pride  than  this  work  of 
the  Jesuits  here  in  the  West.  At  privations  they 
have  smiled,  at  danger  they  have  laughed,  at  tor 
ture  they  have  stretched  out  hands  of  blessing 
over  their  torturers.  And  who  are  they  who 
have  faced  all  these  things  for  their  religion ?  Not 
hardy  pioneers  full  of  love  of  adventure  like 
many  of  our  Virginia  cavaliers,  but  delicately 
nurtured  students,  men  for  the  chief  part  who 
prefer  the  cloister  to  the  world,  but  have  cheer 
fully  sought  these  western  wilds,  moved  only  by 
love  of  God  and  man." 

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The  Rolling  Year 

"  Humphrey,  thou  dost  love  to  argue,  but 
answer  me  one  question,  Dost  thou  put  trust 
in  them  ?  " 

Huntoon  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Why,  for  the  matter  of  that,"  he  said,  "  the 
older  I  grow,  the  fewer  men  do  I  put  full  trust 
in.  But,  Betty,  there  is  something  else  I  have  to 
talk  of  with  thee." 

"  Ay,"  said  his  wife,  laying  down  the  purse  she 
was  netting,  "  and  what  is  that  ?  ' 

"  Faith,  I  scarce  like  to  speak  of  it  lest  it  vex 
thee." 

"  The  sooner  I  hear  it,  the  less  't  will  keep  me 
on  the  rack." 

"  Why,  then,  I  do  suspect  that  Romney  is  in 
love." 

"Verily!" 

"Ay,  verily,  verily.  At  the  first  I  thought 
'twas  but  a  boyish  softness  ;  but  I  have  watched 
him  close  of  late,  and  I  fear  it  is  a  man's  passion." 

"Oh,  mayhap  'tis  thy  fancy  leads  thee  on  to 
imagine  all  this.  Romney  is  tougher  than  thou 
mayst  credit.  He  can  see  a  pretty  face  —  ay, 
even  for  a  year  —  and  not  lose  his  heart." 

"But,  Betty  —  " 

"  Well !  " 

"  What  if  the  maid  lose  hers  with  looking  at 
him  ?  He  is  a  well-favored  lad." 

"  Ay,    he    hath  the   look  and  bearing   of  the 
297 


Sir  Christopher 

Romneys.  But  what  hath  put  this  fancy  in  thy 
head  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  have  looked  and  listened  and  I  am  very 
swift  to  take  in  such  things,  swifter  than  thou, 
I  dare  venture ;  oft  would  I  have  spoken  to  thee 
of  the  matter  ere  this,  but  feared  to  stir  lest  thou 
take  it  too  hard." 

"  Good  Master  Blind-as-a-Bat,  once  before 
I  called  thee  by  that  name,  and  thou  hast  got  no 
better  eyes  since.  I  have  known  this  wondrous 
news  of  thine  these  twelve  months  more  or  less.'* 

"  And  never  told  me  ?  " 

"  Oft  would  I  have  spoken,"  answered  Eliza 
beth,  mockingly,  "  but  feared  lest  thou  take  it 
too  hard." 

"  The  same  old  Betty !  "  cried  Humphrey 
Huntoon,  laughing,  yet  a  trifle  vexed,  for  the 
most  amiable  of  men  loves  not  to  be  made  a  jest 
of.  "  But  there  must  be  some  deeper  reason  why 
thou  shouldst  have  held  thy  peace  on  a  matter 
touching  us  both  so  nearly.  Faith,  thou  art  like 
the  fish  Walton  tells  of,  that  closeth  its  mouth  in 
August  and  openeth  not  till  spring." 

"  Why,  Humphrey,  't  was  the  first  night  of  the 
Nevilles'  coming,  Romney  did  make  a  clean 
breast  of  his  love  for  Peggy,  and  the  next  day  we 
talked  of  it  again.  He  told  me  all,  —  how  he  had 
asked  her  to  marry  him  and  got  no  answer  ;  that 
is,  none  that  suited  him,  for  he  swore  she  cared  no 

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The  Rolling  Year 

more  for  him  than  for  any  gallant  of  St.  Mary's 
save  as  he  had  befriended  her  brother;  c  but, 
Mother/  he  said,  c  I  spoke  with  her  since  she 
came  to  Romney  and  told  her  the  matter  was 
not  to  be  opened  for  a  year,  that  we  were  both 
too  young,  and  meanwhile  we  were  to  be  friends, 
and  if  she  made  any  show  of  not  being  at  ease 
with  me,  I  would  take  myself  off  for  the  whole 
year,  and  that  would  be  a  great  grief  to  you  and 
my  father.' ' 

"  Ah  !  "  said  her  husband,  "  the  boy  has  the 
blood  of  the  Huntoons  in  him.  'T  was  spoken 
like  a  man,  and  Peggy  —  what  said  she  ?  " 

"  She  said  nothing,  only  stretched  out  both 
hands  and  looked  up  at  him  in  a  way  she  has 
which  would  make  a  man  in  love  with  her  that 
was  cold  before,  and  make  her  lover  ready  to  live 
or  die  for  another  like  it.  Ever  since  they  have 
been  fast  friends,  though  't  is  to  thee  rather  than 
Romney  she  shows  favor,  and  't  is  well  I  am  a 
woman  above  jealousy." 

While  they  were  talking  Neville  entered. 

"  Is  it  not  a  pity,  my  good  host,  to  be  shut 
indoors  when  the  sunshine  lies  on  the  river  bank 
and  the  air  is  like  mellow  wine  ?  " 

"  Hast  thou  spent  the  morning  in  the  open  ?  " 

"Ay,  Romney  and  I  and  Peggy  have  been 
sitting  by  the  river  bank.  We  made  wreaths  for 
her  while  she  bound  our  wrists  with  withes  and 

299 


Sir  Christopher 


laughed  to  see  us  struggle  with  them.  I  did 
break  mine  full  easily  ;  but  Romney  could  not 
for  his  life  till  Peggy  did  herself  undo  them." 

"  Where  did  you  leave  the  two  ?  "  asked 
Elizabeth. 

cc  They  came  up  from  the  river  with  me,  but 
turned  in  at  the  barn  where  the  spinning-wheel 
stands.  There !  I  ought  not  to  have  told,  for 
Peggy  was  fain  to  surprise  thee  with  a  great  skein 
of  smooth  flax." 

"  She  is  more  like  to  surprise  me  with  a  knotted 
skein,  and  a  snarl  on  the  spindle  that  will  take  a 
week  to  unwind.  Never  was  there  such  a  care 
less,  heedless,  captivating  being." 

"  Since  the  days  of  Elizabeth  Romney,"  said 
Huntoon,  who  would  listen  to  no  word  spoken 
in  detraction  of  Peggy.  His  wife  smiled  and 
thrust  out  her  chin  at  him. 

"  I  must  go  and  try  if  it  be  yet  too  late  to  res 
cue  the  poor  wheel,"  she  said,  and  passed  out  at 
the  door  and  down  the  path  which  led  to  the 
barn. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  barn  she  paused  and 
stood  looking  in  at  the  picture  which  the  door 
way  framed.  Leaning  against  the  rough  wall 
stood  Romney,  his  fingers  idly  sweeping  the 
strings  of  a  lute,  while  his  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
Peggy  as  she  sat  by  the  flax-wheel  in  the  corner. 
Her  little  foot  pressed  the  treadle,  her  round  arms 

300 


The  Rolling  Year 

swayed  this  way  and  that  with  the  moving  skein, 
and  her  supple  fingers  hovered  over  distaft  and 
spindle. 

The  last  year  had  left  time's  mark  on  the 
young  man.  In  youth  these  marks  are  generally 
an  improvement,  and  before  thirty,  the  years  add 
more  than  they  take  away.  It  was  hard  to  define 
the  change  which  the  passing  months  had  brought 
to  Romney,  but  where  a  year  ago  the  passing 
stranger  saw  the  lingering  boyhood,  to-day  he 
marked  the  coming  manhood.  The  mouth  shut 
closer,  the  brows  drew  a  little  together  as  if  set 
in  a  purpose  known  only  to  themselves.  If  the 
smile  were  rarer,  it  was  also  sweeter,  for  it  had 
learned  to  show  itself  only  when  another  smile 
appeared  to  call  it  forth.  Just  now  it  was  playing 
freely  about  his  lips  as  he  watched  the  figure  at 
the  wheel. 

When  two  are  alone  together,  and  a  third  is 
present,  his  name  is  Love.  Peggy's  mood  was 
merry,  and  her  mouth  had  lost  for  the  time  the 
wistful  sadness  that  had  hung  round  it  ever  since 
her  coming  to  Virginia.  Now  it  curved  into  the 
old-time  dimples  at  the  corner  as  she  tossed  back 
and 'forth  the  refrain  of  an  old  song  of  which 
Romney,  in  teasing  humor,  had  begun  the  first 
verse.  He  sang  to  the  music  of  his  lute  and  she 
to  the  accompaniment  of  her  whirring  wheel. 

With  a  mocking  smile  he  thrummed  and  sang  : 
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Sir  Christopher 

"  '  Pray,  what  are  women  like  unto  ? 
Believe  me,  and  I  '11  tell  you  true  : 
Wine,  wine,  women  and  wine, 
They  are  alike  in  rain  or  shine.'  " 

Peggy  bridled,  and  Romney,  still  smiling,  went 
on,  — 

"  '  Woman  's  a  witch  who  plies  her  charm 
As  doth  the  wine  to  work  man  harm, 
And  when  she  sees  his  heart  is  sore, 
She  smiles  and  sparkles  all  the  more.'  " 

Peggy  dropped  her  lashes,  leaned  a  bit  more 
over  the  wheel  till  the  curls  shaded  the  round  of 
her  cheek  as  she  took  up  the  word,  — 

"  '  It  is  not  woman  is  the  wine, 

But  love,  but  love,  oh,  sweetheart  mine  ! 
Drink  deep,  and  drinking  thou  shalt  prove 
How  heart'ning  is  the  draught  of  love.' 

Is  't  not  a  silly  verse?" 

"Peggy!  'Tis  a  year  last  week  since  thou 
didst  come  to  Romney." 


"And  then  we  did  forswear  all  talk  of  love  for 
a  twelvemonth.  But  the  twelvemonth  is  ended. 
May  I  talk  of  it  now  ?  " 

Peggy  colored  rose-red. 

"Dost  know  what  manner  of  thing  love  is  ?  " 

Peggy  looked  up  but  sidewise,  and  so  looking 
took  in  a  glimpse  of  Mistress  Huntoon,  and  she 
ran  to  her  as  to  a  refuge. 

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The  Rolling  Year 

"  Come,  thou  dear  hostess/'  she  said,  drawing 
her  in  at  the  wide  door,  "  thou  art  just  in  time  to 
answer  a  question  of  thy  son's,  £  What  manner 
of  thing  is  love  ? ' ' 

Elizabeth  Huntoon  colored  almost  as  red  as 
Peggy  had  done  but  now.  It  was  as  though  the 
question  had  turned  back  life's  dial-point  and  her 
youth  was  before  her  again.  She  saw  Humphrey 
bending  over  her  in  the  window-seat  at  James  City. 
She  could  recall  the  trembling  of  his  ringers  as 
they  fastened  her  necklace.  She  could  almost  hear 
again  the  beating  of  her  own  heart.  So  real  did 
all  this  seem  that  she  stood  stock  still  with  her 
finger  on  her  lips,  like  a  statue  of  Memory, 
smiling  to  its  own  image  in  the  past. 

"Love!"  she  said  at  last,  rousing  herself, 
"why,  I  am  fain  to  think  the  beauty  of  love  is 
that  none  can  describe  it  because  it  is  different  to 
each  soul ;  nay,  that  it  is  different  each  hour  to 
the  same  soul." 

"  Does  it  bring  happiness  ?  " 

"  In  that  it  is  like  life,  —  brilliant  as  a  field  of 
poppies  one  day,  sad  as  a  grove  of  yew-trees  the 
next." 

"  But  how  can  one  tell  when  one  is  —  is  in 
love  ?  " 

"  Because  when  one  is  —  is  in  love,"  mocked 
Elizabeth,  "  Love  tells  one." 

"  Wert  thou  surer' 

3<>3  . 


Sir  Christopher 

cc  Nay,  I  was  of  the  blow  hot,  blow  cold  sort. 
When  Humphrey  shunned  me,  I  fell  a-dying 
for  him ;  but  when  he  sat  casting  sheep's  eyes  at 
me,  I  yawned  in  his  face.  I  wanted  to  own  him  ; 
yet  I  had  no  yearning  to  bear  bonds  myself.  But 
sometimes  storms  clear  the  air  better  than  sun 
shine;  and  when  we  met  at  the  gate  of  death,  as  it 
seemed,  in  the  massacre  at  Flower  da  Hundred 
yonder,  I  knew  that  in  life  or  death  he  was 
mine  and  I  his." 

"  Master  Huntoon,"  cried  Peggy,  turning  to 
Romney  with  a  merry  eye  but  a  trembling  lip, 
"thinkst,  then,  thou  couldst  get  up  a  massacre? 
"T  is  evident  nothing  less  will  show  a  woman 
what  manner  of  thing  love  is !  Yet  that  would 
not  serve  either,  for  in  such  like  times  'tis  only 
the  great  things  of  life  that  we  heed.  If  I  could 
keep  thee  for  such,  thou  wouldst  suit  me  to  the 
Queen's  taste,  but  oh  dear  me  !  life  is  made  up 
of  such  little  things  !  When  thou  dost  trip  over 
the  root  of  a  tree,  I  hate  thee  for  thy  clumsiness  ; 
when  thou  dost  turn  a  compliment,  I  long  to  take 
it  from  thy  lips  and  say  it  to  myself,  —  I  know  so 
well  what  manner  of  speech  a  girl  would  like." 

"  And  I  what  answer  a  man  would  go  on  his 
knees  for." 

"  Ah,  there  thou  art  again.  When  thou  didst 
kneel,  I  saw  thee  first  dust  the  floor  with  thy 
kerchief." 

304 


The  Rolling  Year 

"  I  never  did,  Peggy,  I  swear  I  never  did, 
though  I  had  on  my  peach-blow  breeches  and 
blue  hose." 

"Well,  'twas  as  bad,  for  thou  didst  look  as 
if  to  see  where  the  dust  was  least.  Oh,  I  could 
scarce  help  bursting  into  laughter." 

"  The  devil  !  "  exclaimed  poor  Romney,  look 
ing  toward  his  mother  with  despair  in  his  eyes, 
but  his  mother  only  smiled. 

"  Tell  me,  thou  dear,  wise  Mistress  Huntoon, 
can  a  woman  truly  love  and  yet  be  fain  to  laugh 
at  herself  and  her  love  and  her  lover?  " 

"  Some  women  can,  Peggy,  women  like  thee 
and  me  ;  and,  truth  to  tell,  I  believe  their  laughing 
love  is  as  well  worth  having  as  the  sighs  of  those 
who  must  pull  a  long  face  and  grow  pale  and  go 
about  solemnly  breathing  out  prayers  and  poems  ; 
but  if  thou  wilt  have  my  judgment  in  thy  case, 
little  one,  I  think  thou  art  as  one  who  uses  the 
beads  of  a  rosary  to  play  marbles  before  the 
world,  yet  in  the  closet  will  string  them  once 
more  and  murmur  Pater  Nosters  and  Ave  Marias 
as  piously  as  any  nun. 

"  Never  mind !  By  and  by  thou  wilt  make  a 
little  shrine  for  them  and  they  will  grow  more 
sacred,  and  then  little  by  little  thou  wilt  forget 
that  thou  couldst  once  laugh  and  make  merry 
over  them.  Kiss  me  and  say,  dost  not  feel  it 
so?" 

20  3°S 


Sir  Christopher 


No  answer. 

"  But  Romney  must  wait  patiently  for  the 
stringing  of  the  beads  and  the  building  of 
the  shrine,  and  not  try  to  bless  the  rosary  till  the 
play  is  over.  As  for  thee,  Peggy,  trouble  not 
thy  head  over  the  future,  and  for  the  present 
cease  to  twitch  at  that  skein  which  thou  art 
snarling  past  all  hope  of  disentangling." 

"How  stupid  of  me!  and  I  was  going  to 
make  it  such  a  lovely  skein  for  a  surprise,"  and 
Peggy's  nervous  fingers  began  to  work  with  the 
refractory  thread. 

"  I  came  to  talk  of  lighter  things  when  I  was 
drawn  into  this  discourse  of  love/'  said  Elizabeth. 
"  I  wanted  to  tell  thee,  Peggy,  of  a  plan  we  have 
for  a  day  not  far  off  when  this  graceless  boy  of 
ours  comes  to  man's  estate.  If  we  were  at  home 
in  England  we  should  keep  this  twenty-first 
birthday  of  his  with  state  and  ceremony,  but 
here  in  the  wilds  our  festivities  must  needs  be 
primitive.  We  have  thought  of  a  barbecue  in 
the  forest  for  the  tenants  and  a  dance  in  the 
house  for  the  friends  and  neighbors.  For  a 
dance,  folk  twenty  miles  away  count  themselves 
neighbors." 

"  A  dance  ! "  Peggy's  eyes  lighted  and  then 
fell  with  a  sudden  sadness  upon  her  black  dress. 
Romney's  glance  followed  hers  and  he  said 

quietly,  — 

306 


The  Rolling  Year 

"  Let  us  not  attempt  it,  Mother.  We  are 
none  of  us  in  the  mood/' 

"Perhaps  we  all  need  it  the  more  on  that 
account.  Even  to  the  world  Peggy's  year  of 
mourning  is  over,  and  there  will  be  less  question 
ing  if  she  takes  her  place  in  the  world  once  more  ; 
and  among  ourselves,  where  it  is  a  question  of 
Christopher,  surely  the  best  service  we  can  do 
him  is  to  bring  what  gayety  of  heart  we  can  into 
his  life." 

"  You  speak  wisdom,  Mistress  Huntoon  ;  but 
your  words  bring  home  to  me  something  I  have 
often  of  late  wished  to  speak  of  with  you.  I  — 
we  —  cannot  longer  trench  upon  even  your  in 
exhaustible  hospitality." 

"  Hush  ! "  said  Elizabeth,  interrupting  her 
with  the  quick  impulsive  tears  starting  to  her  eyes. 
"  Little  Peggy,  it  has  been  the  one  drop  of  sad 
ness  in  our  cup  that  we  have  had  no  daughter. 
Now  we  happen  to  have  taken  a  fancy  to  you, 
though  you  do  snarl  flax.  Nay,  never  blush 
and  look  at  Romney  ;  it  is  a  daughter  we  want, 
though  she  be  not  our  son's  wife.  We  love  you 
for  yourself,  and  we  love  Christopher  for  himself. 
So  speak  no  word  further  of  parting,  but  rather 
play  the  daughter  of  the  house  and  help  me  in 
planning  the  dance." 

"  Oh,  may  I  really  ?     Do  you  think  I  ought  ?  " 

"  I  do  indeed  think  you  both  may  and  ought. 
307 


Sir  Christopher 

It  is  more  than  any  one  woman  can  undertake 
alone.  I  must  go  into  the  house  at  once  to 
begin." 

"  And  I  will  follow  as  soon  as  this  is  un 
snarled,"  said  Peggy. 

"And  I  will  wait  to  practise  kneeling  to  the 
Queen's  taste,"  said  Romney,  with  a  look  which 
brought  a  surge  of  red  to  Peggy's  cheek. 

"  Heigh-ho !  "  sighed  his  mother  as  she  walked 
toward  the  house,  "it  is  one  thing  to  sigh  for 
the  moon ;  another  to  get  it." 


308 


CHAPTER   XX 

A    BIRTHNIGHT    BALL 

IT  was  the  evening  of  Romney's  dance. 
Lights  blazed  from  every  window  of  the 
Huntoon  mansion,  and  outside  the  moon 
hung  her  yellow  lantern  in  honor  of  the  merry 
making. 

Already  the  guests  were  gathering.  At  the  wharf 
lay  a  flock  of  white-sailed  boats,  billing  together 
like  a  covey  of  friendly  swans.  Around  the  door 
huddled  a  motley  group  of  men  and  boys,  hold 
ing  the  bridle  of  horse  and  donkey,  and  in  the 
midst,  the  centre  of  observation,  stood  the  lum 
bering  yellow  coach  with  a  crest  on  the  panel 
of  its  door,  the  state  carriage  of  the  Governor 
of  the  province  and  used  only  on  occasions  of 
ceremony. 

On  the  shore,  in  front  of  the  house,  a  great 
bonfire  flamed  up,  a  beacon  that  could  be  seen 
far  out  on  the  river.  Above  the  fire  stretched 
two  parallel  bars  supported  on  forked  stakes. 
On  one  of  the  bars  hung  a  huge  moose  figuring 
in  place  of  the  ox  that  would  have  adorned  a 

3°9 


Sir  Christopher 


barbecue  in  England.  On  the  other  bar  hung 
a  string  of  wild  birds,  duck,  heron,  and  bit 
tern,  alternating  with  raccoon,  squirrel,  and 
possum.  On  the  ground  around  the  fire  sat  a 
throng  of  Indians  and  negroes  interspersed  with 
white  servants,  eagerly  watching  the  game  hissing 
on  the  spit.  In  the  centre,  Philpotts  crouched, 
resting  on  his  heels  and  holding  out  his  hands  to 
the  cheerful  blaze. 

"  I  tell  you,  Cupid,'*  he  said,  turning  to  a 
negro  seated  beside  him,  "  this  is  a  sight  for 
sore  eyes,  yet  would  I  give  more  than  all,  if  one 
I  wot  of  could  get  the  good  of  it  with  the  rest  of 
us." 

Cupid  answered  by  raising  his  eyebrows  in 
question  and  jerking  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder 
in  the  direction  of  a  lighted  window  against  which 
Neville's  figure  was  outlined. 

"  Ay,"  answered  Philpotts,  as  if  he  had  spoken, 
"  it 's  my  master  I  was  thinking  of.  It 's  my 
very  life  I  'd  give  to  see  him  himself  again.  You 
did  never  see  such  a  man  as  he  was  in  his  prime, 
Cupid,  and  that 's  not  long  since.  My  brother 
knew  him  when  he  was  little  more  than  a  boy, 
and  he  says  he  was  the  bravest  and  the  blithest 
lad  in  all  the  shire  of  Somerset.  But  he  fell  in 
love,  Cupid.  He  fell  in  love,  and  that 's  how  all 
a  man's  troubles  begin." 

Cupid  grinned  so  widely  that  all  his  shining 
310 


A  Birthnight  Ball 

row  of  white  teeth  showed  against  the  blackness 
of  his  face  like  a  row  of  candles. 

"  Massa  Romney  he  no  tink  so.     See  !  " 
Following  Cupid's  eyes,  Philpotts  saw  Master 
Romney  standing  on  the  terrace  below  the  little 
white   bedroom,   and    flinging   roses   against  the 
window,    from    which     Peggy    was    leaning    and 
laughingly  dodging  the  flowers  as  they  struck. 
"  Come  down,  mistress  mine.     Thou  art  late, 
and  the  company  is  half  gathered  already." 

"  Go  away,  then,  and  do  not  break  my  window, 
and  then  leave  me  to  thy  mother's  reproof." 

With  the  words  she  shut  to  the  casement  and 
flung  down  a  rose  which  had  landed  on  the  sill. 
Romney  stooped,  picked  it  up,  kissed  it,  and 
thrust  it  into  the  breast  of  his  coat. 

Philpotts  and  Cupid  looked  at  each  other  and 
burst  into  a  shout  of  laughter. 

"  Come,  Cupid,  we  must  in  and  help  about  the 
horses.  Youth  will  be  youth,  and  fools  will  fall 
in  love  while  the  world  lasts." 

Within  the  house  the  girls  were  hastily  donning 
their  finery,  shaking  out  their  skirts,  and  making 
ready  to  flutter  down  to  the  foot  of  the  stairway 
where  their  escorts  awaited  them,  while  such  of 
the  men  as  had  ridden  made  use  of  the  time  to 
unloop  the  tails  of  their  coats,  prudently  fastened 
back  for  their  ride  over  forest  trails. 

"  Girls,  have  any  of  you  seen  this   Maryland 
3" 


Sir  Christopher 

maid  who  is  staying  with  Mistress  Huntoon  ?  " 
asked  Mistress  Nancy  Lynch,  as  they  came  down 
the  stair,  buttoning  their  gloves. 

"Why,"  answered  Polly  Claiborne,  "once  I 
caught  a  glimpse  of  her  standing  on  the  terrace 
with  Romney.  I  thought  no  great  things  of  her. 
She  was  too  brown,  and  but  for  a  pretty  trick  of 
the  eyes  she  had  no  claims." 

"  Yet  they  say  at  the  chapel  of  ease  the  parson 
can  scarce  go  on  with  the  service  for  gazing  on 
her,  and  when  in  the  litany  he  comes  to  '  Have 
mercy  upon  us  '  he  looks  straight  at  her  in  the 
Huntoon  pew." 

"  Well,  there  is  one  lucky  thing,  all  the  men 
are  dead  set  against  Maryland  now.  I  dare  say 
the  poor  thing  will  have  scarce  a  partner  at  the 
ball." 

"  You  would  not  care  to  dance  with  a  girl  from 
Maryland,  would  you,  Captain  Snow  ?  "  said 
Mistress  Polly,  leaning  over  the  railing  to  where 
the  young  officer  stood  smoothing  back  his  cuffs. 

"  Not  while  Virginia  holds  her  own  as  she  does 
to-night.  You  have  promised  me  the  first  reel, 
remember.  Faith  !  't  is  as  fine  a  hall  as  ever  I 
saw  for  dancing." 

"Ay,  that  it  is!"  echoed  Nancy  Lynch,  and 
straightway  the  whole  bevy  of  girls  and  men  fell 
to  echoing  the  praises  of  the  house,  and  voting  it 
the  finest  in  the  province,  next  to  the  Governor's, 

312 


A  Birthnight  Ball 

On  the  outside  Romney  was  but  a  settler's 
house,  noteworthy  only  in  size  and  fine  propor 
tion  ;  within,  it  was  an  English  mansion,  for  all 
the  furnishings  of  Romney  Hall  in  Devonshire 
had  been  brought  over  and  placed  as  nearly  as 
possible  in  their  relative  position  in  the  new 
house. 

Chairs  and  tables  of  black  carved  oak  stood 
about.  On  the  south  side  of  the  great  hall  hung 
a  tapestry  worked  by  the  maids  of  Mary  of  Scot 
land  in  her  captivity  ;  in  the  corner  stood  a  great 
bronze  vase,  wrought  by  a  famous  Florentine  of 
an  earlier  day.  Over  the  mantel  breast  scowled  a 
portrait  of  Sir  William  Romney,  and  opposite 
him  his  wife  smiled  down,  as  if  she  wished  she 
were  alive,  and  could  take  part  in  the  festive  scene 
in  the  hall,  lighted  by  the  many  candelabra  and 
sconces  and  the  hissing,  sparkling,  high-flaming 
fire  on  the  broad  hearth. 

The  portrait  bore  a  striking  resemblance  to  the 
hostess,  who  stood  under  it  in  her  gown  of  silver 
brocade  over  yellow  satin,  receiving  her  guests 
with  that  graciousness  which  made  each  one 
believe  himself  the  one  most  desired,  where  all 
were  welcome.  Each  girl  felt  that  now  she  had 
come,  the  ball  was  sure  to  be  a  success  ;  each  man, 
that  it  was  upon  him  Mistress  Huntoon  counted 
as  her  chief  aid. 

Just  now  she  was  listening  with  an  air  of 
3*3 


Sir  Christopher 

absorbed  interest  to  the  talk  of  Sir  William 
Berkeley,  who  dispensed  his  compliments  upon 
just  and  unjust  alike.  True  to  the  cavalier  ideal, 
his  theme  was  always  "  lovely  woman."  If  the 
particular  woman  with  whom  he  was  talking  was 
lovely  she  must  like  to  be  told  so,  if  not,  she 
must  like  it  all  the  more. 

In  the  case  of  Elizabeth  Huntoon  the  strain 
upon  his  conscience  was  less  than  usual,  and  if  she 
smiled  at  his  elaborate  flatteries,  it  was  only  after 
his  back  was  turned. 

"  I  trust,  Madam,"  he  was  saying,  "  that  I  am 
to  be  favored  with  this  white  hand  in  the  first 
measure  —  that  is,  if  no  other  partner  has  been 
selected  by  the  queen  of  the  ball." 

"  Where  the  Governor  asks  there  can  be  no 
other,"  answered  Elizabeth,  sweeping  her  best 
courtesy ;  "  but  I  am  only  queen  dowager  to 
night,  and  Your  Excellency  must  honor  some  of 
the  rising  beauties  by  asking  of  them  in  the 
dance." 

"Ay,  after  you,"  he  said,  tapping  his  gold  snuff 
box  ;  "but  when  one  is  looking  upon  the  sun, 
one  has  no  mind  to  be  put  off  with  satellites." 
Then,  breaking  off  and  looking  toward  the  stair 
case,  he  exclaimed,  <c  In  the  name  of  Venus  and 
Cupid,  who  is  that  ?  " 

Following  his  eyes  Elizabeth  saw  naughty 
Peggy,  who  should  have  been  ready  an  hour  ago, 

3'4 


A  Birthnight  Ball 

coming  slowly  down  the  winding  stair,  her  figure 
showing  lithe  and  erect  against  the  oak  panelling, 
her  head  thrown  back,  her  nostrils  dilated  with 
the  elation  of  a  race-horse  coming  in  sight  of  the 
grand  stand. 

For  the  last  year  she  had  drooped  into  a  York 
shire  rose,  but  to-night  she  glowed  in  full  Lan 
castrian  splendor.  Her  cheeks  were  flushed  with 
carnation,  her  lips  redder  still,  and  her  eyes 
flashing  with  a  sense  of  untried  power  and  latent 
consciousness  of  crescent  beauty.  She  was  like  a 
young  empress  looking  down  upon  a  roomful  of 
men  destined  to  be  her  subjects,  though  as  yet 
they  knew  it  not. 

The  girls  looked  up  at  her  and  instinctively 
fell  to  arranging  their  lovelocks,  and  wondering  if 
they  had  not  abandoned  the  mirror  prematurely. 
The  men  looked  up  and  straightway  forgot  them 
selves  and  their  partners,  or  wondered  only  how 
soon  they  could  civilly  be  rid  of  them. 

"  That  girl  not  a  beauty  !  "  whispered  Nancy 
reproachfully  to  Polly.  "  Why,  then,  where  's 
the  use  of  being  beautiful.  Look  at  the  men  !  " 

In  truth,  it  was  as  if  the  company  had  seen  a 
comet.  All  faces  were  turned  upward,  all  eyes 
upon  that  figure  which  came  slowly  down  the 
stair  with  as  calm  an  assurance  as  if  her  life  had 
been  spent  in  courts. 

"  This  satellite,"   said  Elizabeth,  with  amused 


Sir  Christopher 

emphasis  on  the  word,  and  drawing  the  girl 
toward  her  as  she  spoke,  "  is  Mistress  Peggy 
Neville,  Your  Excellency." 

"  I  had  never  thought  of  her  having  a  name/' 
said  the  Governor,  bowing  low,  "  unless,  indeed,  it 
were  Flora  or  Proserpine,  or  some  of  those  god 
desses  who  appeared  now  and  then  to  man  in  old 
days  to  show  him  what  goddesses  were  like. 
May  I  hope  that  Flora  will  tread  the  pa  van 
with  me  later  ?  " 

Peggy  blushed  rosier  than  ever  and  courtesied 
to  the  ground.  The  twanging  of  the  riddles  was 
in  her  ears  celestial  music,  the  candles  were  the 
lights  of  paradise,  and  this  was  life. 

"  Good-evening,  Sir  William  !  " 

"  Ah  !  Huntoon,  I  have  not  seen  you  since 
my  return  from  England." 

"  How  did  you  leave  affairs  there  ?  " 

"  Badly  enough.  His  Majesty  is  hard  pressed. 
I  urged  upon  him  a  temporary  withdrawal  to 
his  dominions  on  this  side  of  the  water,  and  if 
things  go  much  worse  with  him  I  believe  he  may 
consider  of  it." 

"  Come,  gentlemen,"  broke  in  Elizabeth,  "  the 
fiddles  are  tuned,  and  the  young  people  cannot 
brook  waiting  while  you  settle  the  fate  of  the 
nation." 

In  truth,  to  one  little  maid  it  did  seem  as 
though  the  dancing  would  never  begin.  What 


A  Birthnight  Ball 

was  the  fun  of  having  men  struggle  for  the 
privilege  of  talking  with  her  ?  Old  ladies  could 
talk.  She  could  talk  better  at  forty-eight  than  at 
eighteen  ;  but  to  dance,  to  sway  to  the  music,  and 
feel  the  blood  keeping  time  as  it  swept  along;  to 
promenade  down  the  hall  with  all  eyes  fixed  upon 
one;  to  wheel  the  gallants  in  the  reel  and  feel  the 
lingering  pressure  of  fingers  reluctant  to  let  go 
their  transient  grasp;  to  feel  the  light  of  the 
candles  reflected  in  one's  eyes  and  the  perfume 
of  roses  caught  in  her  breath  ;  to  live  and  move 
and  reign  the  princess  of  love,  —  this  was  the 
glorious  privilege  of  youth  and  womanhood, 
the  guerdon  which  kind  Fate  in  atonement  for 
many  hard  blows  had  flung  at  the  feet  of  Peggy 
Neville. 

At  last  the  march  began,  —  Sir  William  and 
Mistress  Huntoon  leading,  the  master  of  the 
house  following  with  Lady  Berkeley  ;  and  when 
Romney  held  out  his  hand  to  Peggy,  she  was 
glad  to  be  alive.  As  she  looked  down  at  her 
gown  she  experienced  that  satisfaction  which  the 
young  knights  of  old  knew  in  donning  their 
maiden  armor,  for  is  not  dress  the  armor  of  the 
social  battle  ? 

Never  in  her  short  life  of  eighteen  years  had 
Peggy  Neville  looked  as  lovely  as  she  did 
to-night.  Never  had  her  eyes  been  so  bright, 
never  her  cheeks  so  red,  never  had  Romney  felt 

317 


Sir  Christopher 

himself  so  helplessly  her  slave,  and,  alas  !  the 
poor  boy  thought,  never  had  she  looked  so 
indifferently  upon  him. 

It  would  not  perhaps  have  encouraged  the  lad 
to  know  that  instead  of  thinking  of  him  with 
indifference,  she  simply  was  not  thinking  of  him 
at  all,  her  entire  attention  being  fixed  upon  the 
scene  around  her  and  the  actors  in  it.  Such 
beautiful  girls,  in  their  jewels  and  laces  and  bro 
cades  and  high-heeled  slippers  !  Such  magnificent 
men,  with  rainbow  colors  in  sashes  and  velvet 
coats,  with  ruffles  of  costly  embroideries  and 
buckles  reflecting  the  light  of  the  candles  !  Most 
gorgeous  of  all,  Sir  William  Berkeley  ! 

It  quite  took  Peggy's  breath  away  when  this 
elegant  courtier  bowed  before  her  and  begged  her 
hand  for  the  pavan.  Yet  there  he  was,  sweeping 
the  floor  before  her  with  the  white  plumes  of  his 
hat  and  craving  the  honor  of  the  dance.  What 
ever  might  be  thought  of  Sir  William's  powers 
of  governing,  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  he 
understood  the  art  of  dancing,  and,  final  test 
of  skill,  of  making  his  partner  dance  well. 
Holding  the  tips  of  Peggy's  fingers  lightly,  but 
firmly,  he  led  her  to  the  head  of  the  hall,  where 
the  host  and  hostess  stood.  These  they  saluted 
gravely,  she  with  a  deep  courtesy,  he  with  an 
equally  deep  bow,  his  hat  clasped  to  his  heart. 
Then  sweeping  down  the  room  they  paused  again 

318 


A  Birthnight  Ball 

before  the  portrait  of  the  King,  and  Berkeley 
saluted  with  his  sword ;  then  on  again,  the  haut 
boys  keeping  time  while  the  company  marked 
the  rhythm  by  singing  together,  after  the  fashion 
introduced  by  Queen  Henrietta's  French  court 


iers 


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319 


Sir  Christopher 


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At  the  end  of  the  measure,  the  advance  being 
ended,  the  retreat  began,  the  Governor  walking 
behind  and  leading  his  partner  backward,  always 
with  delicately  held  finger-tips,  the  raised  arm 
and  rounded  wrist  showing  every  graceful  curve 
as  the  girl  walked. 

"  Where  did  she  learn  it,"  wondered  Romney, 
"  and  she  never  at  Court  ?  " 

For  Peggy  the  most  trying  period  in  the  ordeal 
was  when  she  was  left  standing  alone  while  her 
cavalierj  with  gliding  steps  and  deep  bows,  re 
treated  to  the  centre  of  the  room,  where,  sweep 
ing  a  grave  circle  with  his  rapier,  he  faced  about 
and  again  advanced  toward  her  with  the  proud 
peacock-motion  that  gave  the  dance  its  name. 
At  first  she  had  not  the  courage  to  look  up  to 
his  face  at  all,  but  kept  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
scarlet  cross-bands  embroidered  with  gold  across 
his  breast  and  the  jewel-studded  hilt  of  his  rapier. 

Apparently  His  Excellency  found  the  view  of 
her  eyelashes  and  lowered  lids  unsatisfactory,  for 
as  they  paced  down  the  room  between  the  rows 

320 


A  Birthnight  Ball 

of  gallants  he  compelled  her  to  look  up  by  asking 
how  she  liked  Virginia. 

"  Virginia  much,  but  Virginians  more,"  she 
answered. 

"  That  is  doubly  a  compliment,  coming  from 
a  dweller  across  the  border,"  said  the  Governor, 
with  a  smile.  "  For  our  part,  whatever  quarrels 
we  may  have  with  the  men  of  your  province,  we 
are  forced  to  lower  our  swords  before  its  women. 
Beauty  is  the  David  who  slays  his  tens  of  thou 
sands,  where  strength,  like  Saul,  counts  its  thou 
sands  only.  It  is  not  every  one,"  he  added,  with 
a  look  which  older  men  permit  themselves  and 
call  impertinence  in  a  youth,  —  "  it  is  not  every 
one  who  can  move  in  a  ball-room  as  if  it  were 
her  birthright  to  be  admired." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Peggy,  and  then  blushed 
crimson.  "  What  a  dolt  1  am,"  she  thought ; 
"  as  if  he  meant  me  !  " 

To  cover  her  confusion  she  fixed  her  eyes  upon 
a  soldierly  man  at  the  head  of  the  room. 

"  Can  you,  who  know  every  one,  tell  me,"  she 
asked,  "  who  is  the  cavalier  who  dances  with  an 
abstracted  air,  as  though  his  thoughts  were  fixed 
on  serious  subjects,  and  his  mind  only  permitted 
his  body  to  dance  on  condition  that  it  made  no 
demand  on  his  attention  ?  " 

"  Ah,  you  mean  Councillor  Claiborne." 

"  Not  Master  William  Claiborne  ?  " 

21  321 


Sir  Christophei 


"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Why  —  why  —  "  stammered  Peggy,  cc  I 
thought  he  would  look  like  a  cut-throat  or  a 
pirate." 

The  Governor  laughed  so  loud  that  every  one 
turned  and  wondered  what  the  girl  talking  with 
him  could  have  said  that  was  so  mightily  clever, 
and  thus  her  blunder  did  the  new-comer  more 
good  in  social  repute  than  the  finest  wit. 

"  So  the  Maryland  picture  of  poor  Claiborne 
supplies  him  with  all  the  attributes  of  the  devil, 
except  the  horns  and  hoof?  And  you  would 
never  have  known  him  as  different  from  half  the 
worthies  here  to-night.  Well,  I  '11  tell  you  pri 
vately  what  Master  William  Claiborne  really  is, 
—  a  good  friend,  an  able  secretary  of  the  Council, 
and  a  damned  obstinate  enemy.  When  Baltimore 
undertook  to  oust  him  from  Kent  Island  he  might 
better  have  thrust  his  hand  into  a  nest  of  live 
wasps.  Ah,  what?  Our  turn  again.  Why, 
young  lady,  your  talk  is  so  beguiling  I  had  quite 
lost  myself." 

Peggy  smiled  behind  her  fan  at  the  Governor's 
notion  that  it  was  she  who  had  done  the  talking. 
She  wished  —  she  did  wish  Christopher  could 
have  heard  him  say  it,  though.  But  Christopher, 
when  she  begged  him  to  be  present  at  the  dance, 
had  shaken  his  head  and  answered  that  he  should 
not  know  how  to  carry  himself  at  a  ball.  Peggy, 

322 


A  Birthnight  Ball    • 

remembering  her  mother's  stories  of  Christopher 
at  court,  and  how  Queen  Henrietta  had  asked  to 
have  him  presented  to  her  as  the  finest  gallant  at 
Buckingham  Palace,  had  fallen  to  crying  then. 
Even  now,  following  her  little  vanity  came  a 
great  rush  of  pity  and  tenderness  that  brought 
the  quick  tears,  and  made  her  glad  when  the 
dance  was  ended,  and  Sir  William,  bowing  low 
over  her  hand,  led  her  to  her  seat  with  a  kiss. 

"  Uncle  William  has  resigned  her  at  last,"  said 
the  Governor's  niece,  who  was  talking  with 
Romney  in  a  corner  under  the  musician's  bal 
cony.  "Do  you  admire  her  as  much  as  the  other 
men  do  ?  " 

"Her?"  asked  Romney,  with  a  fine  show  of 
indifference. 

"Mistress  Neville,  I  mean,  that  they  all  talk 
of  as  if  nothing  like  her  was  ever  seen  before." 

"  Do  they  ?  " 

"  Ay,  Master  Lawrence  says  she  lights  the  hall 
more  than  all  the  candles,  while  Colonel  Payne 
says  that  her  dancing  is  poetry  and  her  talk  is 
music." 

"  Indeed  ! " 

"Ay,  and  Captain  Snow  is  worst  of  all,  for 
he  follows  her  about  with  his  eyes  opened  twice 
as  big  as  usual,  lest  he  lose  a  single  glance. 
If  you  doubt  me,  look  at  Polly  Claiborne,  who 
thought  she  had  him  safely  landed  for  a  husband, 

323 


Sir  Christopher 

and  now  sees  him  drifting  in  the  tow  of  another 
bark.     She  is  furious." 

"She  looks  calm  enough." 

"In  the  face,  yes,  but  look  at  her  hands ;  they 
are  wringing  that  unlucky  lace  kerchief  as  if 
't  were  her  rival's  neck.  But  you  have  not  said 
what  you  think  of  this  paragon." 

"  I  was  looking  at  you." 

"  'Toward  me,  not  at  me,  and  ever  and  anon 
your  eyes  took  a  holiday  and  wandered  off  to  the 
Beauty.  Oh,  it  is  fine  to  be  a  Beauty  with  a 
capital  letter.  Yet  I  think  really  it  is  more  her 
manner  that  charms  than  her  looks.  She  has  the 
air  of  being  so  pleased  with  each  man  she  meets, 
and  so  more  than  pleased  that  he  finds  pleasure 
in  looking  at  her." 

"  She  does." 

"  It  looks  like  vanity.     Say  you  not  so  ?  " 

"  It  surely  does  —  like  coquetry,  which  is  the 
very  essence  of  vanity/' 

"  'T  is  well  she  hears  you  not." 

"  I  will  go  over  now,  and  you  shall  see  me  tell 
her  so,"  Romney  said,  as  a  man  joined  them. 

"It  was  a  shrewd  device  ;  but  it  fails  to  deceive 
me,"  thought  his  companion.  "  He  is  in  love, 
and  he  is  jealous." 

"  It  is  like  the  days  at  old  Romney  Hall,  is  it 
not,  sweetheart  ?  "  said  the  master  of  the  house, 
standing  beside  his  wife,  as  they  watched  the  lines 

324 


A  Birthnight  Ball 

of  men  and  maidens  gliding  down  the  length  of 
the  room,  their  gorgeous  brocades  and  glistening 
jewels  reflected  as  in  a  mirror  in  the  polished  floor. 

"  Ay,"  answered  Elizabeth,  "  and  the  county 
of  Devon  could  not  show  more  pretty  faces  than 
are  here  to-night.  Nancy  Lynch  is  a  beauty, 
and  Kitty  Lee  has  the  loveliest  crinkly  hair." 

"  But  Peggy  is  the  queen  of  the  ball,"  said 
Huntoon,  with  a  satisfied  nod.  "  See  the  saucy 
baggage  smiling  at  her  own  reflection  in  the  glass." 

"  I  fear  she  is  vain." 

"  No  doubt,  being  pretty,  and  a  woman." 

"  She  is  neglecting  Romney." 

cc  But  is  she  not  having  a  fine  time  !  I  vow  it 
makes  my  slow,  old  blood  dance  to  watch  her." 

"  But  it  is  Romney's  dance,  and  he  enjoys  it 
not." 

"  And  if  the  boy  wants  the  moon,  this  being 
his  birthnight,  his  mother  must  get  it  for  him.  See, 
Peggy  is  throwing  a  rose  at  Romney.  It  hit  him 
squarely  in  the  breast  and  she  is  smiling  at  him." 

"  Stupid  !  "  said  Elizabeth.  "  Why  does  he 
not  ask  her  for  the  galliard  ?  " 

"  He  has ;  see  how  glum  the  others  look.  Call 
you  that  hospitality,  to  keep  the  best  for  himself?  " 

"  Oh,  the  others  were  best  occupied  in  talking 
with  the  girls.  But  no,  they  must  hang  about 
looking  at  Peggy,  as  though  the  sun  rose  and  set 
over  her  shoulder." 

325 


Sir  Christopher 

Yet  Elizabeth  smiled. 

Meanwhile  Peggy,  having  had  her  nil  of  ad 
miration,  turned  gracious  and  bethought  herself 
of  the  other  damsels.  She  would  fain  have  per 
suaded  some  of  her  superfluous  partners  to  betake 
themselves  across  the  hall  to  where  Polly  Claiborne 
was  sitting  in  solitude  against  the  settle ;  but  such 
curious  creatures  are  men,  that  they  prefer  to 
hover  on  the  frigid  rim  of  the  outermost  circle  of 
success  rather  than  to  bask  in  the  welcoming 
smiles  of  the  neglected. 

One  held  Peggy's  fan,  another  her  kerchief, 
a  third  her  roses,  the  ones  Romney  had  gathered 
for  her  this  afternoon,  and  now  viewed  with 
wrath,  seeing  them  picked  to  pieces  by  the  idle 
fingers  of  young  Captain  Richard  Snow,  who, 
having  won  a  place  in  the  inner  line  by  her  side, 
showed  a  determination  not  to  abandon  it  before 
supper. 

"Never  before  did  I  know  that  the  Huntoons 
were  selfish  !  "  he  was  murmuring. 

"  That  they  could  never  be  !  "  ejaculated  Peggy, 
with  anger  in  her  voice. 

"  Yet  they  have  kept  you  to  themselves  for  a 
whole  year,  you  that  should  have  shone  like  the 
sun  over  all  Virginia." 

"  Poor  Virginia  !  "  mocked  Peggy  ;  "  she  has 
indeed  been  sadly  cheated." 

"  You  need  not  shine  long  to  warm  the  prov- 
326 


A  Birthnight  Ball 

ince,"   said    a    second  gallant,    "  since   you   have 
melted  Snow  in  a  single  evening." 

"  Ah,"  answered  Peggy,  "  snow  in  this  part  of 
the  world  never  stays  long,  but,"  with  a  side 
glance  under  her  lashes,  "  it  is  lovely  while  it 
lasts  ; "  then  catching  too  a  self-satisfied  smile 
upon  the  Captain's  face,  she  added  pertly,  "  but 
somewhat  soft." 

The  Captain  colored  and  glowered  at  his  rival. 
"  It  is  a  misfortune,"  he  said,  stiffly,  "  to  have  a 
name  that  lends  itself  to  jests." 

"  Oh,"  said  Peggy,  feeling  that  she  had  taken  a 
liberty  and  anxious  to  make  amends,  "  I  do  admire 
your  name  much." 

"Really!" 

"  Really  and  truly." 

"  You  have  only  to  take  it ;  I  assure  you  it  is 
quite  at  your  service." 

At  this  a  shout  of  laughter  went  up  from  the 
circle  of  men  about. 

"What  is  the  jest?"  asked  Romney,  joining 
the  group  from  which  he  had  been  vainly  striving 
to  abstract  his  eyes  and  interest. 

"  Why,  an  offer  of  marriage  from  Snow,  which 
Mistress  Neville  has  not  yet  answered." 

Romney  showed  his  vexation  by  tapping  with 
his  foot  on  the  floor  and  biting  his  lip. 

"  Yes,"  added  another,  "  we  are  all  waiting 
eagerly  to  try  our  own  chance." 

327 


Sir  Christopher 

"  I  am  sorry/*  said  Romney,  stiffly,  "  to  cut 
short  your  lottery,  but  my  mother  has  sent  me  to 
conduct  Mistress  Neville  to  the  supper-table,  and 
begs  that  you  gentlemen  will  find  partners." 

Peggy,  knowing  that  she  was  not  behaving  well, 
was  incensed  with  Romney  for  showing  that  he 
knew  it  too. 

"  The  hero  of  a  birthnight  is  no  more  to  be 
denied  than  the  King  himself,"  she  said,  turning 
for  a  last  smile  at  her  court.  Then  as  soon  as 
they  were  out  of  hearing,  "  Romney,  what  is  the 
matter  ?  Have  I  a  black  smooch  on  my  nose, 
or  did  I  talk  too  much  or  laugh  too  loud  that  you 
look  so  —  so  —  so  righteously  disapproving  ?  " 

"  If  you  are  satisfied  with  your  conduct  I  shall 
not  presume  to  disapprove." 

"  If  I  were  satisfied  with  my  conduct  I  should 
not  care  a  halfpenny  whether  you  disapproved 
or  not.  It 's  just  because  I  am  not  satisfied  in 
the  least  that  it  makes  me  so  vexed  that  you  do 
presume  to  disapprove.  See  you  not  why  I  can 
not  bear  to  have  you  think  ill  of  me  ? " 

Romney's  heart  beat  thick  and  fast. 

"  Why,  Peggy  ?     Will  you  not  tell  me  why  ?  " 

"  Because  if  you  do  your  mother  will,  and  then 
I  should  have  only  your  father  for  my  friend, 
and  by  and  by  —  perhaps  —  who  knows?  —  he 
would  give  me  up  too." 

Romney's  spirits,  which  had  risen  to  boiling 
328 


A  Birthnight  Ball 

point  at  her  question,  sank  to  freezing  at  her  an 
swer.  The  lights  seemed  to  fade  out  of  the  hun 
dred  candles  and  leave  the  hall  gloomy ;  he  heard 
the  fiddles  scraping  out  the  tune  of  "  Oil  of 
Barley,"  and  he  hated  the  music  ever  after.  In 
silence  he  stalked  on  to  the  door  of  the  supper- 
room.  Within  was  a  merry  din  of  talk  and 
laughter. 

"  Come,  Peggy,"  said  the  hostess,  "  I  was  look 
ing  for  you.  We  are  waiting  for  you  to  cut  the 
birthday  cakes.  Good  friends  all,"  she  contin 
ued,  turning  to  the  company,  "we  have  here 
two  birthday  cakes,  and  in  each  lies  hid  one  half 
of  a  gimmal  ring,  which,  as  you  know,  is  made 
of  two  rings  that  do  fit  together  to  form  one. 
On  the  man's  ring  is  inscribed  '  to  get,'  and  on 
the  maid's,  £  her?  and  being  united  they  read 
c  together:  Come,  Peggy,  cut  and  choose  first  lot 
for  the  maid's  ring !  " 

Amid  much  shouting  and  laughter  the  lots 
were  cast,  and  when  it  was  found  that  the  lucky 
numbers  had  been  drawn  by  Mistress  Neville  and 
Captain  Snow,  all  the  company  save  one  found 
the  result  vastly  diverting.  The  Captain  fastened 
his  half  conspicuously  over  his  breast,  and  Peggy 
mischievously  slipped  hers  upon  the  marriage 
finger. 

Humphrey  Huntoon,  seeing  the  gathering 
cloud  on  Romney's  brow,  filled  a  goblet  from  the 

329 


Sir  Christopher 

great  punch-bowl  which  stood  in  the  centre  of 
the  table  flanked  by  candelabra  bearing  twenty 
candles  each. 

"  A  toast,  my  boy  !  a  toast !  "  he  called  out,  and 
under  his  breath  he  murmured,  "  Forget  not  that 
to-night  you  are  host  first  and  lover  afterward." 

Romney  colored  but  took  the  goblet,  raised  it 
and  said,  bowing  to  all  corners  of  the  room,  — 

"To  my  guests,  one  and  all !  " 

"  I  give  you  c  The  Ladies  of  Virginia  ! '  "  called 
Colonel  Payne. 

"  Here  's  to  Maryland  !  Confusion  to  her  men, 
but  long  life  to  her  women  !  "  It  was  Claiborne 
who  spoke,  and  Captain  Snow  capped  the  toast  by 
clinking  his  new  ring  against  his  goblet  and  cry 
ing,  "  I  drink  to  HER  !  " 

Peggy,  seeing  Romney's  face  darken  again, 
took  her  courage  in  both  hands  and  with  it  her 
goblet,  which  she  lifted,  saying  in  a  soft  voice 
which  could  yet  be  heard  over  all  the  room,  — 

"  To  Master  and  Mistress  Huntoon,  the 
kindest  hostess  and  the  noblest  host,  and  — "  here 
she  stretched  out  her  hand  to  Romney,  <c  to  the 
hero  of  the  night,  the  best  comrade  in  the  world  !  " 

A  chorus  of  cc  Long  life  to  them  all  !  "  greeted 
the  toast,  and  the  goblets  clinked  merrily  ;  but  to 
Romney  it  might  have  been  water  or  wine  or 
poison  they  were  drinking,  for  all  he  knew  or 
cared. 

330 


A  Birthnight  Ball 

At  last,  when  supper  was  ended  Sir  William 
Berkeley  rose  in  his  place,  and  with  a  solemnity 
quite  different  from  his  jovial  manner  of  the 
evening  hitherto  he  said, "  One  last  toast,  and  we 
will,  if  you  please,  drink  it  standing.  The  King, 
God  bless  him  !  " 

Fifty  men  sprang  to  their  feet,  fifty  goblets 
flashed  in  air.  Then  utter  silence  fell.  It  was 
as  if  the  shadow  of  the  scaffold  at  Whitehall 
already  cast  its  gloom  over  the  loyal  hearts  of  the 
colonial  cavaliers. 

The  guests  broke  up  into  little  groups  of  two 
and  three  and  wandered  back  to  the  dancing-hall, 
where  the  fiddles  were  still  working  away  for 
dear  life  at  the  strains  of  "  The  Jovial  Beggar  " 
and  "Joan's  Ale  is  New."  The  long  lines  of 
reel  and  brantle  formed  again,  and  the  dancers 
refused  to  give  over  their  merry-making  till  the 
gray  dawn  came  peeping  in  at  the  window,  turn 
ing  the  yellow  candlelight  to  an  insignificant 
glimmer,  and  hinting  of  the  approaching  day  and 
its  humdrum  duties. 

As  the  guests,  one  by  one,  came  up  to  bid 
their  hosts  a  good-night,  which  might  more  appro 
priately  have  been  a  good-morning,  Master  Clai- 
borne  drew  Huntoon  aside  a  moment,  asking, — 

"  Will  you  be  at  home  to-morrow  —  I  mean 
to-day  ?  " 
"Ay." 

33 i 


Sir  Christopher 


"  Then  I  may  come  to  see  you  ?  " 

"  Why  not  stay  now,  since  't  is  already  day?  " 

"  Because  there  be  others  I  must  see  first,  but 
I  will  be  back  before  noon." 

"  And  I  glad  as  always  to  see  you,  but  too 
sleepy,  I  fear,  to  give  heed  to  any  business." 

"  Then  get  your  sleep  before,  for  it  is  business 
of  moment  touching  which  we  need  your  aid  and 
counsel." 

Before  Huntoon  could  answer,  another  guest 
claimed  his  attention,  and  he  followed  to  the  door 
to  help  the  ladies,  who  had  donned  their  hoods 
and  safeguards,  to  mount  their  horses  or  embark 
in  the  boats. 

As  they  rode  or  sailed  away  into  the  gray 
dawn,  Peggy,  wrapped  in  her  red  cloak,  stood 
with  Romney  watching  them  from  the  porch. 

"  It  has  been  such  a  beautiful  ball  !"  she  sighed. 

"  You  think  so  ?  " 

"Of  course  I  do;  but  then,  you  see,  I  never 
saw  a  real,  big  ball  before.  Do  you  think  they 
are  all  like  that  ?  " 

"  To  girls  like  you,  yes,  and  I  suppose  to  men 
like  me." 

"  But  there  are  so  few  men  like  you." 

Romney's  eyes  looked  a  question. 

£C  So  persistent  and  so  jealous  and  so  — dear—" 

With  this  Peggy  pulled  the  ring  off  her  finger 
and,  tossing  it  lightly  toward  the  lad,  whispered,  — 

332 


A  Birthnight  Ball 

"  Catch  !  and  keep  it  if  you  can  !  It  is  my 
birthday  gift.'* 

cc  I  take  the  dare  and  I  take  the  gift,  and  I  will 
yet  take  something  else.  So  there,  Peggy  !  " 

But  ere  he  had  finished  she  had  vanished  up 
the  stairway  and  the  ball  was  over. 


333 


CHAPTER   XXI 

A    ROOTED    SORROW 

BEFORE    the    last    guest    had    taken    his 
departure    from    Romney    the    red    sun 
came  bobbing  up  across   the  river  and 
shot  his  rays  in  at  the  window. 

There  is  a  sarcastic  common-sense  about  the 
morning  sun  on  such  occasions.  "  Was  it  all 
worth  while?"  he  seems  to  ask.  "Consider  the 
labor  of  preparation,  the  rushing  about  of  the 
servants,  the  hours  that  my  lady  spent  before 
her  mirror  with  patch  and  powder-puff,  the  effort 
my  fine  gentleman  expended  upon  his  ruffles 
and  falling  bands.  Then  the  occasion  itself,  the 
weary  feet  that  trod  the  measure  long  after  the 
toilsome  pleasure  had  ceased  to  please,  the  lips 
that  murmured  sentiment  knowing  it  was  non 
sense,  the  eyes  that  reversed  the  old  moral  maxim 
and  strove  to  beam  and  not  to  see —  Reflect 
upon  all  these  and  then  sum  up  the  aftermath,  — 
the  disordered  rooms,  the  guttering  candles,  the 
faded  flowers,  the  regretted  vows,  the  heavy 

334 


A  Rooted  Sorrow 

eyelids,  the  aching  heads.  Now,  was  it  all  worth 
while?" 

The  answer  of  the  overnight  revellers  would 
doubtless  depend  chiefly  on  age  and  tempera 
ment.  Young  men  and  maidens  would  reply 
that  it  was  none  of  the  sun's  business ;  that  he 
had  never  been  at  a  ball,  and  did  not  know  what 
he  was  talking  about,  and  for  themselves  they 
preferred  to  reserve  their  confidences  for  the 
sympathetic  moon,  who,  being  so  much  younger 
than  the  sun,  could  better  understand  youthful 
experiences  and  emotions. 

Certainly  that  is  what  Romney  Huntoon  would 
have  said.  The  commonplace  day  annoyed  him. 
His  mood  was  too  sentimental  for  its  searching 
light.  He  had  slept  little,  and  now  at  near  noon 
hung  about  the  foot  of  the  stairway  wondering  at 
what  time  it  would  occur  to  Mistress  Margaret 
Neville  to  come  down. 

When  she  did  appear  disappointment  was  in 
store  for  him.  She  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
wholly  that  little  scene  on  the  terrace,  and  when 
he  held  out  his  hand  with  her  ring,  that  blessed 
little  ring  upon  it,  she  only  courtesied  and  asked 
if  his  mother  were  yet  down  stairs. 

At  breakfast  it  was  little  better :  she  raved  over 
Colonel  Theophilus  Payne,  praised  the  bearing 
of  Councillor  Claiborne,  said  how  she  doted  upon 
army  men,  commended  the  curls  of  one  cavalier 

335 


Sir  Christopher 

and  the  bearing  of  another,  —  all  as  if  no  such 
youth  as  Romney  Huntoon  had  ever  crossed 
her  path. 

Romney  avowed  his  intention  of  spending  the 
afternoon  in  his  boat  on  the  river.  Peggy 
thought  it  an  excellent  plan,  and  purposed  retir 
ing  to  her  room  unless  Mistress  Huntoon  had 
need  of  her. 

Mistress  Huntoon  had  no  need  of  her.  In 
fact,  in  reviewing  last  night's  events  she  felt  that 
Peggy  had  treated  her  son  rather  badly,  and  she 
was  inclined  to  make  the  culprit  feel  it,  too.  It 
must  be  admitted  that  justice  is  never  so  unre 
lenting  as  when  Rhadamanthus  has  been  up  over 
night.  On  another  occasion  excuses  might  have 
been  found  for  the  girl,  but  this  morning  she 
was  pronounced  unquestionably  vain  and  pre 
sumably  heartless,  —  in  short,  Elizabeth  Huntoon 
was  out  of  temper. 

It  was  not  much  better  with  her  husband. 
He  was  uneasy  over  the  approaching  visit  of 
William  Claiborne,  and  annoyed  with  himself 
that  he  had  not  had  the  wit  to  devise  an  excuse. 
He  knew  well  Claiborne's  insubordinate  temper, 
and  had  no  mind  to  be  drawn  into  any  of  his 
schemes. 

Peggy  alone  worked  away  at  her  stitching  in 
exasperating  content.  At  length  Romney  could 
bear  it  no  longer.  He  rose,  thrust  his  hands 

336 


A  Rooted  Sorrow 

into  his  pockets  and  rushed  out,  opening  the 
door  with  his  head  as  he  went,  like  a  goat  butting 
a  wall. 

Peggy  smiled,  and  the  smile  brought  a  frown 
to  the  face  of  her  hostess. 

"Romney  is  not  over  well  this  morning,  I 
fear,"  said  his  mother. 

"  I  thought  he  was  not  behaving  well  —  I  mean 
not  behaving  as  if  he  were  well." 

"  He  hath  much  to  try  him." 

"  That  is  hard  to  believe,  in  this  beautiful 
home  and  with  thee  for  a  mother." 

Elizabeth  tapped  the  floor  with  her  slipper. 

"  'T  were  well  for  young  men  if  a  mother's 
love  sufficed  them." 

"  Ho!  ho  !  "  laughed  Humphrey,  roused  from 
his  abstraction  by  the  tilt  between  the  two 
women.  "  Faith,  good  wife,  I  felt  the  need  of 
another  love  than  my  mother's,  and  I  look  not 
to  see  Romney  more  filial  than  I." 

"Oh,  you  may  make  a  jest  of  me,"  began 
Elizabeth,  stiffly ;  but  there  was  a  catch  in  her 
voice  which  led  Peggy  to  throw  down  her  net 
ting,  and  run  across  the  room  to  kneel  beside 
her.  "  /  need  a  mother's  love  more  than  any," 
she  whispered. 

Elizabeth's  anger  weakened. 

"  Tell  me  where  Romney  has  gone  and  I  will 
follow  and  strive  to  make  my  peace." 
22  337 


Sir  Christopher 

For  answer  Mistress  Huntoon  pointed  through 
the  window  to  where  Romney  sat  on  the  edge  of 
the  wharf  vexing  the  placid  breast  of  the  York 
River  by  a  volley  of  pebbles,  flipped  between 
his  thumb  and  forefinger. 

As  the  boy  sat  thus  idly  occupied,  his  hand 
full  of  pebbles,  his  head  full  of  bitter  thoughts, 
his  heart  of  a  curious  numbness,  he  felt  a  light 
touch  on  his  shoulder,  but  he  did  not  turn. 

"  Master  Huntoon  !  " 

No  answer. 

"  Romney  !  " 

"Ay." 

"  Of  what  art  thou  thinking  ?  " 

"  Nothing." 

"And  what  dost  thou  think  of  when  thou  art 
thinking  of  nothing  ?  " 

"  A  woman's  promise." 

"  Hath  some  woman  promised  thee  aught  and 
failed  thee?" 

"Ay,  it  comes  to  the  same  thing.  Eyes  may 
speak  promises  as  well  as  lips." 

"  Oh,  yes,  eyes  may  say  a  great  deal,  especially 
when  they  are  angry  eyes  and  look  out  from 
under  drawn  brows.  I  should  scarce  think  any 
maid  would  dare  wed  a  man  with  eyes  that  could 
look  black  when  their  color  by  nature  is  blue." 

Clever  Peggy  to  shift  the  ground  of  attack! 
Silly  Romney  to  fall  into  the  trap  1 

338 


A  Rooted  Sorrow 

"  I  am  not  angry." 

"  Yes  you  are,  and  have  been  all  the  morning 
in  a  temper.  I  felt  quite  sorry  for  your  mother, 
she  was  so  shamed  by  it." 

"  What  said  she  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that  you  were  not  well,  which  is  what 
mothers  always  say  when  their  son's  actions  do 
them  no  credit." 

"  If  my  temper  did  me  no  credit,  who  drove 
me  to  it?" 

Peggy  raised  her  eyebrows,  puckered  her  pretty 
lips,  and  looked  straight  up  into  the  sky  as  if 
striving  to  solve  a  riddle. 

"  For  my  life  I  cannot  guess,"  she  said  at 
last,  "  unless  —  unless  it  was  that  wretched 
woman  who  broke  her  promise." 

"  Thou  hast  keen  insight  for  one  of  thy  years." 

"  Then  it  was  she  !  " 

"  It  was  no  other." 

"  Tell  me  her  name,  that  I  may  go  to  her  and 
denounce  her  to  her  face." 

"  Strangers  know  her  as  Mistress  Margaret 
Neville.  To  her  friends  she  is  plain  Peggy. 
Now  denounce  her  to  her  face  if  thou  wilt." 

Tripping  to  the  edge  of  the  bank,  the  girl  bent 
over  till  she  could  catch  the  reflection  of  her  curls 
and  dancing  eyes  in  the  water. 

"  Plain  Peggy,"  she  said,  shaking  her  finger  at 
the  image  below  with  a  wicked  smile,  "  you 

339 


Sir  Christopher 

must  be  a  bad  baggage.  It  seems  you  have 
broken  your  promise  to  marry  a  gentleman  here, 
and  such  a  perfect  gentleman  !  he  says  so  him 
self,  —  one  who  never  gets  angry,  never  butts  with 
his  head  at  doors,  never  shames  his  mother. 
Why,  plain  Peggy,  you  must  be  a  fool  to  lose 
such  a  chance ;  but  since  you  have  thrown  away 
such  a  treasure,  I  trust  you  will  meet  the  punish 
ment  you  do  deserve,  and  that  he  will  go  away 
and  never  —  never  —  NEVER  speak  —  to  you 
again!" 

With  this  Peggy  turned  sharply  on  her  heel, 
burning  with  curiosity  to  see  the  effect  of  her 
words.  Poor,  discomfited  little  maiden !  Rom- 
ney  had  withdrawn  to  the  edge  of  the  wharf,  and 
there,  close  beside  her,  with  his  horse's  bridle 
over  his  arm,  stood  Councillor  Claiborne. 

With  no  attempt  at  salutation  Peggy  clapped 
her  hands  over  her  burning  cheeks,  and  ran,  yes, 
ignominiously  ran,  toward  the  house.  At  the  door 
she  met  Mistress  Huntoon.  "  Councillor  Clai 
borne  is  —  is  —  coming,"  she  stammered  breath 
lessly. 

"Why  didst  thou  not  stay  to  speak  with 
him?"  But  Peggy  attempted  no  answer,  only 
fled  on  indoors. 

When  Humphrey  had  been  left  alone,  by 
Peggy's  exit  to  the  wharf  and  his  wife's  with 
drawal  to  the  offices,  his  thoughts  turned  with 

340 


A  Rooted  Sorrow 

renewed  irritation  to  Claiborne,  till  Christopher's 
entrance  shed  its  usual  benison  of  tranquillity. 
The  glimpse  of  the  ball  which  Neville  had 
caught  from  over  the  stairway  had  lingered  in  his 
mind  as  a  charming  vision.  The  lights  cheered 
him,  and  the  music  had  lulled  him  to  sweet 
slumber,  from  which  he  had  wakened  at  peace 
with  the  world,  yet  with  a  haze  of  the  Indian- 
summer  sadness  over  the  serenity. 

After  breakfast,  Neville  and  Huntoon  sat  by 
the  open  door  smoking  their  pipes  in  that  social 
silence  so  dear  to  men,  so  difficult  to  women. 

"  Neville/'  said  his  host  at  length,  breaking 
the  long  quiet,  "  you  look  better  to-day  than  at 
any  time  since  you  came  to  Romney." 

"  Oh,  I  am  well  enough." 

"  Your  tone  hath  somewhat  of  discouragement 
in  it." 

"  I  do  feel  a  certain  sadness  of  late,  as  if  I  were 
ever  grasping  for  something  I  could  not  see, 
much  less  reach.  It  doth  often  seem  to  me  that 
I  and  you  and  all  of  us  here  at  Romney  are  shut 
out  from  the  world  by  a  wall  of  fog,  not  dark, 
because  it  is  ofttimes  flooded  by  sunlight,  but 
heavy,  dense,  dull.  It  is  like  a  thick  curtain  with 
vague  distances  in  it,  like  the  distances  between 
the  sun  and  the  earth,  and  through  these  spaces 
float  familiar  scenes  and  faces,  and  all  the  while 
I  feel  that  if  I  could  grasp  one  word  it  would 

341 


Sir  Christopher 

prove  a  clue  to  guide  me  through  the  spaces  from 
one  scene  to  another ;  but  the  word  —  a  name, 
I  think  it  is  —  will  not  come,  and  when  I  think 
on  it  too  hard  I  seem  to  hear  an  echo  murmur 
ing  f  Far  away,  far  away/  Then  the  whole 
vision  fades,  and  I  come  back  to  you  and  Mis 
tress  Huntoon  and  the  rest ;  and  yet  it  is  as  if 
only  half  of  me  came  back,  and  half  were  still 
wandering  through  these  vague,  gray  spaces  of 
mist,  following  the  name.  Think  you  I  shall 
ever  find  it  ?" 

Touched  to  the  quick,  Huntoon  opened  his 
lips  to  speak.  "  Is  the  name  —  " 

At  that  point  his  attention  was  caught  by  a 
stranger's  voice  outside  the  door  saying,  "  I 
am  surprised  to  see  you  abroad  so  early  after  last 
night's  mighty  merry  dance,  Mistress  Huntoon." 

"  I  am  honored  that  you  found  it  so  merry, 
Councillor,"  said  Elizabeth. 

"  Ay,  all  counted  it  the  most  brilliant  fes 
tivity  yet  given  in  Virginia,  and  as  for  the  young 
Maryland  beauty,  she  has  turned  the  heads  of 
half  the  cavaliers  in  York  County." 

"  Some  heads  are  set  on  pivots,  and  turn  to 
each  new  face,"  answered  Elizabeth,  irritably  con 
scious  that  Romney  and  Peggy  were  both  within 
hearing. 

"  Perhaps,  but  many  of  these  heads  will  find 
some  difficulty  in  turning  another  way.  Captain 

342 


A  Rooted  Sorrow 

Snow  raved  all  the  way  home  over  her  charms, 
and  Colonel  Payne  swore  her  coming  had  gone 
far  to  do  away  with  his  grudge  toward  Maryland ; 
and  by  the  way,  the  name  reminds  me  that  I 
came  to  see  your  husband  on  a  matter  of  some 
what  urgent  business.  Is  he  within  ?  " 

«  I  left  him  in  the  hall,"  Elizabeth  replied, 
leading  the  way  back  to  the  house,  and  turning 
back  after  she  had  waved  the  new-comer  to 

enter. 

"  Good-morning,  Master  Huntoon  ! 
"Ah,  Claiborne,  you  look  as  though  you  had 
had  even  less  sleep  than  I." 

"  I  do  suspect  'tis  true,  for  I  have  been  in  the 
saddle  since  dawn." 

"  You  must  have  pressing  affairs  on  hand." 
"  Most  pressing,  and  it  is  concerning  them  that 
I  am  come  to  consult  with  you  privately." 

A  certain  emphasis  on  the  last  word  caused 
Huntoon  to  glance  toward  Neville,  who  was  scru 
tinizing  the  inside  of  his  pipe,  and  had  scarcely 
noted  the  stranger's  entrance. 

"Go  on,"  said  Huntoon,  "it  is  quite  safe. 
I  '11  be  warrant  for  the  close  mouth  of  my  friend 
here.  Besides,"  here  he  drew  back  behind 
Neville,  and  tapped  his  forehead  significantly, 
"he  is  a  stranger  here,  and  neither  cares  nor 
knows  anything  of  our  entanglements." 

"  Then,  Master  Huntoon,  I  will  make  a  clean 
343 


Sir  Christopher 

breast  of  the    matter  that    brought   me    hither. 
You  are  a  Virginian,  and  a  man  of  honor." 

"  Certainly  the  former,  and  I  have  some  hopes 
of  the  latter." 

"  Then  join  us  in  our  effort  to  wrest  away  the 
land  which  the  perfidious  Calverts  have  stolen 
under  guise  of  royal  grant  from  the  Common 
wealth." 

"  c  Stolen  '  is  a  strong  word,  Councillor." 

"  Not  too  strong  to  fit  the  occasion.  Was  not 
the  license  to  trade  with  the  natives  along  the 
Maryland  shore  granted  to  me  by  the  govern 
ment  of  Virginia,  and  afterward  by  the  King 
himself?  " 

"It  was." 

"Was  it  not  under  authority  of  Virginia  that  I 
made  a  settlement  at  Kent  Island? " 

"Yes,  but  —  " 

"Did  not  Kent  belong  to  Virginia  by  right  of 
a  charter  antedating  the  patent  of  that  upstart, 
Calvert  ? " 

"  The  Commissioners  in  England  decided 
differently." 

"  Ay,  of  course  wire-pulling  will  always  move 
the  wires." 

Huntoon's  only  response  was  a  non-commital 
smile. 

"You  may  remember,  Councillor  Huntoon, 
that  this  same  question  came  before  the  Virginia 

344 


A  Rooted  Sorrow 

Council  ten  years  ago,  that  I  did  ask  the  opinion 
of  that  honorable  body  as  to  whether  I  should 
yield  to  Baltimore's  claims.  The  board  answered 
that  they  wondered  how  any  such  question  could 
be  asked,  that  they  knew  no  reason  why  they 
should  give  up  their  rights  in  the  Isle  of  Kent 
more  than  any  other  formerly  granted  to  Virginia 
by  His  Majesty's  patent,  and  that  I  was  in  duty 
bound  to  maintain  the  rights  and  privileges  of 
our  colony." 

"  But  that  was  before  the  decision  of  the  Com 
mission." 

"Ay,  but  that  goes  for  nothing.  'Twas  un 
just,  unfair,  and  should  be  unrecognized." 

"Who  are  concerned  in  your  present  plan?  " 
asked  Huntoon. 

"  Half  the  planters  along  the  river." 

"  And  who  is  to  be  the  leader?  " 

"  I  believe  they  look  to  me ;  but  I  shall  not 
be  alone  in  the  responsibility.  My  friend,  Captain 
Ingle,  is  already  anchored  in  the  bay  with  his 
ship  The  Reformation." 

"Richard  Ingle?" 

"  The  same,  and  a  gallant  spark  he  is.  Last 
winter  Governor  Brent  had  him  tossed  on  to  his 
vessel  like  a  bag  of  grain,  and  the  ship  ordered 
off  in  mad  haste  as  though  she  had  the  plague 
aboard.  Ingle  swore  revenge  then  ;  but  matters 
were  in  too  ticklish  a  stage  at  home  'twixt  King 

345 


Sir  Christopher 

and  Parliament  to  admit  of  his  proceeding  too 
fast.  Now  things  are  clearer,  and  he  has  come 
back  with  ammunition,  armed  with  letters  of 
marque  from  Parliament,  and  purposes  to  make 
hot  work  in  more  senses  than  one  at  St.  Mary's." 

Neville  stopped  playing  with  his  pipe  and 
brushed  his  hand  across  his  forehead. 

"  Then  what  you  purpose  is  an  immediate 
raid,"  said  Huntoon. 

"  That 's  it.  You  're  not  one  that  takes  long 
to  grasp  a  situation,  and  so  I  told  Ingle.  We 
are  to  set  sail  to-morrow  to  a  point  in  the  bay 
where  we  look  to  find  The  Reformation  awaiting 
us,  and  then  under  cover  of  night  we  shall  slip 
through  the  mouth  of  the  Potomac  River  and  be 
in  the  town  ere  daybreak.  That,  I  fancy,  will  be 
a  surprise  indeed  for  Calvert,  who,  I  hear,  is  lately 
come  back  from  England,  and  fancies  his  little 
kingdom  here  secure  from  all  invaders.  Now, 
what  say  you  ?  May  we  count  on  you  and  your 
son  to  be  on  the  wharf  with  your  firearms  to 
morrow,  an  hour  or  so  past  noon  ?  " 

"  You  may  not." 

Claiborne  started. 

"  You  are  not  ready,  then,  to  hazard  anything 
for  the  honor  of  Virginia.'* 

"  Pardon  me ;  I  never  gave  any  man  the  right 
to  say  that,  but  neither  gave  I  any  man  charge 
over  my  conscience  to  tell  me  what  was  needful 

346 


A  Rooted  Sorrow 

to  sustain  my  honor  or  that  of  the  Common 
wealth.  For  my  part  I  see  in  this  raid  you  do 
propose  an  outrage  on  the  rights  of  a  sister 
colony,  an  outrage  sure  to  be  resented  and 
sometime  revenged,  and  meanwhile  to  sow  seeds 
of  dissension  among  the  little  handful  of  civilized 
white  men  scattered  along  this  unfriendly  coast." 

"  Forgive  me,"  sneered  Claiborne ;  "  I  had 
quite  mistook  both  your  character  and  your  in 
clination.  My  time  is  too  short  to  listen  to 
longer  sermon-making,  the  more  as  I  must  seek 
further  for  brave  men  who  have  stomach  for  a 
fight." 

Huntoon  bowed  coldly  and  made  a  step  toward 
the  door.  Claiborne  hesitated. 

"  I  trust,"  he  said,  "  I  may  at  least  depend 
upon  your  secrecy." 

"As  for  that,  I  must  settle  it  with  my  own 
conscience  after  more  thought.  I  sought  no 
confidence,  and  am  bound  to  no  silence  which  I 
count  an  injury  to  the  colony  ;  but  as  the  enter 
prise  is  a  private  one,  I  see  so  far  no  reason  for 
the  Government's  interfering,  though  for  myself 
I  tell  you  in  all  frankness  I  should  count  it  strict 
justice  if  you  and  your  precious  friend,  Ingle,  found 
a  noose  awaiting  you  at  your  journey's  end." 

Claiborne  laughed,  and  played  with  the  hilt  of 
his  sword. 

"  Thanks,  Master  Huntoon,  for  your  courtesy 
347 


Sir  Christopher 

and  good  wishes,  but  we  '11  look  after  our  own 
necks,  and  do  you  the  same.  We  have  no  taste 
for  hanging,  and  it  behooves  all  of  the  name  of 
Calvert  to  keep  more  than  a  rope's  length  from 
Richard  Ingle  and  William  Claiborne." 

With  an  assumed  jauntiness  the  visitor  strode 
out  at  the  open  door  and  went  whistling  down 
the  path. 

Huntoon  stood  still  plunged  in  thought,  mov 
ing  his  foot  about  on  the  floor.  When  he  looked 
up  he  was  startled  by  the  change  in  Neville's 
appearance.  It  was  as  if  the  soul  had  roused 
itself  from  its  long  trance  and  had  taken  command 
of  the  body  once  more. 

"  I  heard  and  I  understood,"  he  said. 

"  Understood  what  ?  "  said  Huntoon,  to  test 
him. 

"  Everything.  It  was  as  if  his  words  made  a 
gap  in  that  wall  of  fog  I  told  you  of  this  morning, 
and  of  a  sudden  I  could  see  the  world  beyond. 
Dick  Ingle  is  come  back.  He  and  Claiborne 
are  to  attack  St.  Mary's.  Is  that  true  ?  " 

"  It  is  true,"  sighed  Huntoon. 

"  And  what  will  you  do  about  it  ?  " 

To  Huntoon  this  spectre,  raised  suddenly,  as 
from  mental  death,  seemed  like  the  embodiment 
of  his  own  conscience  risen  to  confront  him. 

"  What  can  I  do  ?  "  he  asked. 

Again  Neville  drew  his  hand  across  his  fore- 
348 


A  Rooted  Sorrow 

head,  as  though  he  were  striving  to  clear  away  the 
mist  that  still  clouded  his  faculties. 

"Ingle  — Calvert—  St.  Mary's,"  he  repeated, 
as  though  the  words  were  talismans  to  prevent 
his  mind  from  slipping  away  again. 

"  Ay,  't  is  a  coil  —  a  grievous  coil.      I  see  not 
what  I  can  do.      I   have  no  authority  to  act,  and 
there  is  no  time  to  call  the  Council  together  —  " 
"  For  you  I  know  not.      For  me  one  thing  is 
clear,  I  must  go." 

"  Surely  the  Calverts  and  their  friends  have  not 
treated  you  so  well  that  you  owe  them  either  aid 
or  warning." 

"  I  must  go."  Neville  seemed  to  be  talking 
to  himself  rather  than  to  Huntoon,  and  to  fear 
most  of  all  that  he  should  lose  the  power  that 
floated  just  before  him,  still  tantalizingly  beyond 
his  grasp. 

"  Why  must  you  go  ?  " 

"  There  is  some  one  there  who  needs  me.     I 
cannot  recall  her  name,  but  I  seem  to  see  her  face 
and  I  hear  her  voice.     I  wish  — I  wish  — I  could 
call  her  by  name."     Piteously  he  turned  to  Hun 
toon,  seeking  aid. 

"Is  the  name  you  seek  Elinor  —  Elinor  Cal 
vert  ?  " 

"  God  bless  you  !  Yes ;  Elinor.  Say  it 
again  to  me  if  my  mind  wanders.  Elinor! 
Oh,  I  do  love  thee  !  That  face  of  thine  — it 

349 


Sir  Christopher 

has  hovered  in  my  dreams,  but  I  thought  it 
was  an  angel's.  I  remember  it  now,  and  with 
that  smile  on  it  and  those  words  of  thine,  c  I 
think  if  thou  shouldst  put  thine  arms  around  me 
and  whisper  it  in  my  ear  I  should  believe  ! '  Oh, 
Elinor,  my  love !  Dost  thou  love  me,  dear,  still  ? 
But  the  wall  still  stands  between  us." 

"  What  wall  ?  " 

"  The  smirch  upon  mine  honor.  She  would 
have  been  mine  in  spite  of  it,  but  I  swore  an 
oath  to  God  never  to  call  her  wife  unless  I  could 
offer  her  a  name  as  clear  in  the  sight  of  men  as 
in  His." 

The  strong  man  bowed  his  face  upon  his  arms 
and  wept,  silently  at  first,  then  with  hard,  heart 
rending  sobs,  and  Huntoon  stood  by  awed  and 
helpless.  It  was  the  birth-cry  of  a  soul  begin 
ning  life  for  the  second  time. 

At  length  the  sobs  ceased,  and  Neville  rose 
and  stood  upright,  looking  inches  taller  than  be 
fore,  as  though  a  miracle  had  been  wrought  and 
thought  had  added  a  cubit  to  his  stature.  He 
smiled,  and  the  smile  was  sadder  than  the  tears. 

cc  Help  me,  Huntoon,"  he  said,  "  for  I  am  as  a 
little  child,  and  I  have  a  man's  work  before 
me." 

Huntoon  struck  hands  with  him,  and  a  force  of 
vital  will-power  seemed  borne  on  that  electric  cur 
rent  of  sympathy.  "  Fear  not !  "  he  said.  "  If  God 

35° 


A  Rooted  Sorrow 

has  work  for  you,  He  will  furnish  strength  to 
do  it." 

"  Amen  !  "  cried  Christopher,  bowing  his  head. 
When  he  lifted  it  again  his  face  was  as  the  face  of 
an  angel,  —  the  angel  of  the  sword. 

Turning,  Huntoon  was  aware  that  Romney  and 
Peggy  and  Elizabeth  were  standing  in  the  door 
way  and  looking  in  bewilderment  from  him  to 
Neville. 

"We  have  had  strange  news,  Neville  and  I. 
An  attack  is  to  be  made  upon  St.  Mary's,  and 
Neville  feels  his  Maryland  blood  thrilling  to  go 
to  the  rescue."  Aside  he  said  low  to  his  wife, 
"  Take  no  notice  of  the  change,  we  are  seeing  a 
miracle,  —  the  dead  has  come  to  life  again." 

Peggy  grew  white.  "  Christopher,"  she  whis 
pered,  running  up  and  laying  her  face  against  her 
brother's  shoulder,  "  thou  wilt  not  leave  me !  " 

"  Dear,  I  must;  but  I  do  not  leave  thee  alone. 
Answer  me,  Peggy,"  and  holding  her  face  between 
his  hands  he  gazed  deep  into  her  eyes,  "  Dost 
thou  love  Romney  Huntoon  ?  " 

Peggy  felt  the  same  spell  that  had  lain  upon 
them  all,  the  compelling  force  of  an  almost  super 
natural  presence,  before  which  her  little  doubts 
and  hesitations  vanished  and  her  dimpling  arti 
fices  faded  into  utter  pettiness.  She  stood  look 
ing  up  at  him,  "  in  the  eyes  all  woman,  in  the 
lips  half  child,"  till  his  earnest  gaze  forced  an 


Sir  Christopher 

Answer.  "  I  do,"  she  said,  without  blush  or 
tremor. 

"  Come  here,  Romney,"  said  Neville  ;  and 
placing  Peggy's  hand  in  the  young  man's,  "be 
good  to  her !  "  he  said. 

Then  turning  to  where  Elizabeth  and  Hum 
phrey  stood  side  by  side,  he  took  a  hand  of  each. 

"  Kind  friends,  —  and  better  no  man  ever  had, 
—  do  me  one  more  favor  in  accepting  this  little 
sister  of  mine  as  your  daughter." 

"  Trust  me  !  "  said  Humphrey  ;  but  Elizabeth 
said  never  a  word,  only  moved  across  the  room 
and  threw  her  protecting  motherly  arms  around 

Peggy: 

Christopher  smiled. 

"  I  am  answered.  Now,  where  is  dear  old 
Philpotts  ?  " 

"  Here,  my  master,"  spoke  the  faithful  retainer, 
who  had  been  holystoning  the  bricks  of  the  great 
fireplace.  To  him  Neville  stretched  out  his 
hand.  "  It  all  comes  back  to  me  now,  —  what 
you  have  dared  and  suffered  and  lost  for  me.  I 
thank  you  from  my  soul.  Perhaps  'tis  too  much 
to  ask,  but  could  you  find  it  in  your  heart  to  bear 
me  company  in  one  more  troublous  time,  one 
more  life-risk  ?  " 

"  Ay,  ay,  I  '11  follow  your  lead  to  the  death  !  " 

"Then  to  the  wharf  and  loose  the  little  boat  that 
lies  there,  the  one  that  you  have  been  building 

352 


A  Rooted  Sorrow 

all  summer.  For  the  rest  of  you,  good-bye,  and 
God 'bless  you,  one  and  all !  " 

The  little  group  stood  on  the  dock  and  watched 
the  boat  as  it  stole  out  into  the  twilight,  Phil- 
potts  at  the  helm,  Neville  before  the  mast,  just  as 
he  had  stood  on  that  fatal  day  twelve  months 
since,  the  sunlight  streaming  across  his  pale  face. 

"  He  is  like  Sir  Tristan,"  thought  Humphrey 
Huntoon,  " c  born  to  sadness  and  cradled  in  sor 
row.'  God  grant  him  one  glimpse  of  happiness 
before  he  goes  hence  forever!" 


353 


CHAPTER   XXII 

CANDLEMAS    EVE 


Marget,    dost    think    the 
ground-hog  can  see  his  shadow  when 
he  comes  out  of  his  hole  to-morrow  ?  " 
"  I   fear  it,  Cecil.     See   how   bright    the  west 


is  ! 


It  was  Candlemas  Eve  at  St.  Mary's.  All 
day  Cecil  had  been  in  the  woods  gathering  snow 
drops  for  the  shrine  of  the  Virgin,  and  binding 
bay-leaves  into  wreaths  to  decorate  Our  Lady's 
Chapel.  Now,  at  sunset,  he  was  resting  with  his 
head  against  Margaret  Brent's  knee  under  the 
great  mulberry-tree  on  the  bluff. 

"  Then  the  winter  will  be  long  ?  " 

"  So  they  say." 

"And  hard?" 

"That  's  what  all  the  grandames  tell." 

"  Is  it  a  falsehood  or  a  truehood  ?  " 

"  True  as  most  sayings  belike." 

"Then,  Marget." 

«  Well  ?  " 

354 


Candlemas  Eve 

"  I  think  I  'd  best  be  up  ere  sunrise,  and  roll 
stones  before  all  the  holes,  and  I  know  five 
wherein  ground-hogs  Jive." 

Margaret  Brent  laughed.  "  That 's  just  what 
Giles  did  once  when  he  was  little." 

"  Wath  Couthin  Giles  ever  little  —  really  little 
—  like  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Cecil,  little  like  you  ;  and  he  and  I  were 
wont  to  chase  butterflies  through  the  English 
meadows,  and  it 's  small  thought  either  he  or  I 
ever  had  that  we  should  end  our  lives  here  in 
the  wilderness." 

"  End  your  lives  !  " 

To  Cecil  it  was  as  impossible  to  conceive  of 
an  end  as  of  a  beginning  to  these  grown-up 
people  who  always  had  been,  and,  of  course, 
always  would  be,  the  backbone  of  his  world. 
After  a  pause  given  to  meditation  he  resumed,  — 

"  What  makes  folks  die  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  different  things.  They  may  be  sick,  or 
they  may  fall  down  stairs,  or  break  their  bones." 

"  I  see.  Then  they  go  up  to  God  to  get 
mended.  —  Marget !  " 

"  Ay." 

"  I  wish  Mother  would  get  God  to  mend  her 
smile." 

"  What 's  that  ?  " 

"  She  used  to  have  such  a  pretty  smile,  and 
now  she  only  smiles  when  I  make  her." 

355 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Then  see  that  thou  dost  make  her  smile 
often.  Perchance  'tis  thus  that  God  will  mend 
it.  Come,  Cecil,  she  will  be  waiting  for  us  even 
now,  and  we  shall  catch  the  rheum  if  we  sit  longer 
on  this  damp  ground." 

Cecil,  always  glad  to  be  in  motion,  jumped  up, 
and  led  the  way  home,  his  yellow  curls  bobbing 
along  the  path,  as  good  as  a  lantern  in  the  gloam 
ing,  as  Margaret  Brent  told  herself. 

At  the  cottage  door  Elinor  stood  bathed  in 
the  crimson  light  that  flooded  earth  and  sky. 
Her  pale  cheek  had  caught  the  rosy  glow,  and 
the  damp  February  air  had  twisted  her  hair  in 
soft  clinging  rings  about  her  face.  As  she  caught 
sight  of  Margaret  and  Cecil  her  lips  parted  in 
a  welcoming  smile,  and  she  came  down  the  path 
to  meet  them  with  arms  outstretched. 

"  Look,  Couthin  !  "  cried  Cecil,  "  God 's  mend 
ing  her  already  ! " 

"  Pray  Heaven  He  does  !  "  answered  Margaret, 
under  her  breath.  Then,  after  seeing  the  boy 
clasped  in  his  mother's  arms,  she  turned  for  a 
last  look  at  the  scene  which  she  had  left  with 
reluctance,  for  it  was  one  of  the  inconsistencies 
of  Mistress  Brent's  practical  nature  to  love  the 
poetry  of  the  twilight,  and  to  be  willing  to  barter 
all  the  noon-day  hour  for  that  last  swift  dip  of 
the  red  sun  behind  the  hills. 

To-night  she    stood   with  head   thrown    back 
356 


Candlemas  Eve 

and  chest  expanded,  as  though  she  were  physi 
cally  breathing  in  the  beauty  around  her.  The 
rose-purple  of  a  moment  since  had  narrowed  to  a 
single  crimson  bar,  stretched  above  the  opal  barrier 
of  the  hills,  athwart  the  deep  yellow  of  the  sky. 

"  The  walls  were  of  jasper,  and  the  city  was 
of  pure  gold  like  unto  clear  glass  ! " 

"  Supper,  Couthin  Marget  !  and  wheaten  por 
ridge.  Come  in  with  speed  !" 

"  Peace,  poppet !  Who  talks  of  porridge  in 
the  New  Jerusalem  ! " 

"  But  this  is  not  the  New  Jerusalem,  only 
the  ragged  little  village  of  St.  Mary's."  It  was 
Elinor's  voice  that  answered,  and  Margaret  re 
joiced  to  catch  a  strain  of  oldtime  lightness  in  it. 
Moreover,  the  promise  of  the  voice  was  fulfilled 
as  they  sat  at  the  supper-table,  for  Elinor  was  as 
one  who  has  shaken  off  a  burden.  Her  gown 
was  of  a  rich  red  that  might  have  been  stolen 
from  the  sunset,  and  in  her  hair  she  had  set  a 
wing  of  the  cardinal  tanager.  Around  her  neck 
hung  a  single  ruby. 

"  Truth,  Elinor,  thou  art  like  a  flame  to-night," 
exclaimed  Margaret  as  Cecil  drew  out  a  stool  for 
her  at  the  table. 

"  'T  is  time,  Cousin.  Poor  Cecil  hath  had  too 
much  of  shadow  in  his  little  life.  Now,  I  am 
fain  to  throw  some  brightness  into  it,  if  't  is  but 
a  red  gown  and  a  tanager's  wing." 

357 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Hurrah  !  Now  art  thou  thine  old  self  once 
more,  as  I  saw  thee  on  the  morning  when  I  was 
Lord  of —  " 

Margaret  saw  the  gayety  fade  out  of  Elinor's 
face  as  swiftly  as  a  sunlighted  sail  is  swallowed 
up  by  the  gray  mist. 

"  Dost  thou  mind,  Elinor,"  she  said,  quickly, 
"  how  we  were  wont  to  make  merry  on  Candle 
mas  Eve  at  home  in  England  ?  " 

"  Ay,  right  well  I  remember  how  once,  when 
I  was  a  girl,  I  went  through  the  woods  gathering 
wax  berries  for  the  candles."  Here  she  paused, 
and  added  softly,  with  a  mounting  flush  and  a 
tender  smile,  "  'T  was  with  Christopher  Neville." 

Margaret  Brent  looked  up  astonished. 

"  Yes,  Cousin,  I  can  speak  his  name,  and  mean 
to  talk  often  of  him  with  Cecil,  to  make  the  boy, 
so  far  as  I  can,  in  his  image,  so  tender  and  true, 
so  steadfast  and  faithful  to  death." 

"  Thou  art  a  brave  woman." 

cc  Nay,  I  have  been  till  now  a  very  foolish 
one.  Even  now,  as  thou  didst  see,  Cecil's  words 
and  all  they  called  up  cut  to  the  quick  like  a 
two-edged  knife ;  but  this  is  wrong,  and  I 
know  it.  Sure,  God  did  not  give  us  memory  to 
be  a  curse,  but  a  joy.  So  far  as  I  sinned  toward 
Christopher  I  must  bear  the  burden  of  sorrow  ; 
but  I  mean  not  that  it  shall  blight  all  the  past. 
We  were  happy  together  once  —  then  sorroxv 

358 


Candlemas  Eve 

swept  between  ;  but  now  that  too  has  passed,  and 
I  am  fain  to  live  once  again,  though  alone,  the 
happiness  we  shared." 

"  Art  sure  it  will  not  try  thine  endurance  too 
far  to  dwell  so  on  the  past  ?  " 

"  Nay,  for  I  love  it,  and  't  is  so  real,  —  far,  far 
more  real  than  the  present.  Why,  I  can  smell 
again  the  fragrance  of  the  waxen  berries,  and  I 
can  see  Christopher  as  he  stood  pulling  down 
the  bushes  and  smiling  at  my  eagerness  to  fill 
my  pail.  I  think  there  never  was  a  smile  quite 
like  his.  'T  was  more  in  the  eyes  than  the  lips, 
and  it  seemed  to  have  actual  warmth  in  it,  like 
the  fire  yonder." 

"  Ay,  't  was  clear  wonderful  to  see  what  a  change 
a  smile  could  make  in  that  stern  face  of  his." 

"  Oh,  but  in  those  days  there  was  no  sternness 
in  his  face,  only  a  great  gladness  and  gayety.  I 
have  seen  him  lie  under  the  trees  and  whistle  be 
neath  the  hat  pulled  over  his  face,  till  all  the  birds 
gathered  round  and  wondered  what  strange  new 
creature  it  was  that  had  learned  so  merry  a  note." 

Elinor's  eyes  grew  dark  and  misty  as  she 
looked  across  the  candle-light  into  the  darkness 
beyond ;  but  the  smile  still  curved  her  lips,  and 
an  expression  lay  on  her  face  as  of  one  who 
listens  and  responds. 

"  Mother,  wilt  thou  sing  me  a  song  as  thou 
dost  every  Candlemas?  " 

359 


Sir  Christopher 


"  Cecil,  I  fear  my  voice  will  not  follow  my 
resolutions  ;  but  yes,  —  it  shall.  What  wilt  thou 
have  me  sing  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  song  about  the  lady  with  the  green 
sleeves." 

"  Must  it  be  that,  Cecil  ?  Surely  some  other 
would  do  as  well." 

"  No,  'tis  my  favorite  of  them  all." 

Elinor  paled  a  little ;  but  she  began  bravely, 
and  her  courage  and  her  voice  rose  together  till 
at  the  end  there  came  a  triumphant  burst  that 
swelled  beyond  the  narrow  walls  and  could  be 
heard  out  on  the  road,  and  the  villagers  stood 
still  to  listen,  and  nudged  each  other  with  wonder. 

"  Heard  ye  that  ?  'T  is  Mistress  Calvert  sing 
ing, —  Mistress  Calvert !  " 

When  the  song  was  ended,  Margaret  took  her 
turn  at  story-telling,  and  then  Cecil  must  sing  ; 
and  thus  the  time  sped  away  so  fast  that  they  could 
scarce  believe  their  ears  when  the  curfew  bell 
sounded  for  "  lights  out,"  and  Cecil  well-nigh 
forgot  the  answer  to  the  bell,  that  he  had  been 
taught  in  babyhood  and  repeated  every  night 
since  he  could  speak  :  "  Christ  send  us  the  lights 
of  Heaven  ! " 

"  Off  to  bed  with  thee,  Cecil,"  said  his  mother, 
taking  his  face  between  her  hands,  as  was  her 
wont,  and  kissing  him  on  both  cheeks.  "  To 
bed,  and  sweet  dreams  attend  thee  ! " 

360 


Candlemas  Eve 

"  Yet  forget  not  to  be  up  early,"  added  Mar 
garet. 

"  No  fear,  I  have  all  the  candles  to  light  for 
the  Candlemas  blaze,  and  Father  White  hath 
promised  I  may  help  him  in  the  chapel  of  Our 
Lady." 

Leaning  against  his  mother's  knee  he  looked 
up  into  her  face,  exclaiming,  — 

"  Oh,  but  I  do  love  thee  !  " 

"  I  wonder  why." 

"  Why  ?  —  because  thou  art  thou,  and  I  am  I." 

"Sweet,  there  is  no  other  reason  for  loving 
in  all  the  wide  world." 

"  I    can    think    of  other   reasons    too  —  little 


ones." 


"  What  ?  " 

"  I  love  thee  for  the  gold  of  thy  hair,  and  for 
the  holes  at  the  corners  of  thy  mouth,  and  for 
the  seed  cake  thou  didst  give  me,  and  for  not 
beating  me  when  I  fell  into  the  Governor's 
Spring  in  my  new  breeches,  and  for  rubbing 
my  legs  that  night." 

Elinor  threw  her  arms  about  the  child  with 
a  swift  hug,  jealously  noting  that  he  was  taller 
by  a  head  than  last  year.  The  boy  belongs  to 
his  mother.  The  man  belongs  to  the  world  or 
to  some  other  woman. 

"  I  love  thee  too  "  was  all  she  said. 

Clasping  his  arms  close  about  his  mother's 
361 


Sir  Christopher 

neck,  Cecil  whispered,  "  God  is  mending  thee, 
and  I  am  so  glad,  'cos  now  thou  wilt  have  no 
need  to  die." 

When  the  child  was  gone  the  two  women  drew 
nearer  to  the  fire  and  began  to  rake  the  ashes  to 
gether,  but  slowly,  as  if  loath  to  put  out  the  cheer 
ful  domestic  spark,  though  the  air  was  too  soft  to 
need  warming,  and  the  full  moon  blandly  shining 
in  through  the  window  served  amply  for  light. 

With  the  dying  of  the  fire  Elinor's  cheer 
seemed  to  die  too,  and  she  sat  silent  in  the  moon 
light  with  hands  folded  before  her  and  feet  thrust 
out  toward  the  warm  ashes. 

"  Margaret !  " 

"Yes." 

"  Ralph  Ingle  was  here  yesterday." 

"  I  thought  I  saw  him  vanishing  from  the  door 
as  I  came." 

"  Yes,  he  was  here,  and  he  asked  me  again  to 
marry  him." 

"And  thou  —  " 

"  I  told  him  for  the  fortieth  time  that  marriage 
was  not  for  me." 

"  Did  that  settle  it  ?  " 

c<  Nay,  he  only  smiled." 

"  Insolent  fellow  !  " 

"  No,  Cousin,  there  is  no  insolence  in  Ralph 
Ingle,  but  something  which  frights  me  more,  — 
or  did  till  to-day,  —  a  calm  biding  of  his  time,  as 

362 


Candlemas  Eve 

though   in    the    end,    struggle    against   fate  as  I 
would,  he  must  triumph  and  I  must  yield." 

"  Bah,  Elinor  !  That  's  the  talk  of  a  woman 
who  seeks  excuse  for  yielding.  Your  will  is  as 
strong  as  his  ;  use  it !" 

Elinor's  lips  shut  in  a  proud  silence.  There 
was  something  in  Margaret  Brent's  manner  which 
did  not  invite,  much  as  it  justified,  self-reve 
lation.  Few  make  confidences  to  those  who 
never  make  mistakes.  Elinor  made  a  move  as  if 
to  rise  ;  but  Margaret  laid  her  hand  upon  her 
arm.  "  Cousin,"  said  the  older  woman,  "  I  have 
heard  thy  story  ;  now  listen  to  mine.  I  loved 
a  man  once —  " 

Elinor  started. 

"Ah,  thou  didst  never  think  I  had  known 
what  it  was  to  love  ?  " 

"  He  —  he  was  a  lucky  man,"  stammered  Eli 
nor,  in  surprise. 

"  He  might  have  been  a  lucky  man,  though 
perchance  it  behooves  not  me  to  say  it;  yet  I 
verily  believe  I  could  have  made  him  happy, 
but  that  he  was  of  a  jealous  temper  —  " 

Elinor,  who  had  a  blessed  gift  for  silence,  used 
it  now. 

"Yes,"  Margaret  continued;  "he  was  jealous 
by  nature,  and  therefore  lent  a  ready  ear  when 
one  dropped  poison  in  it." 

"  He  doubted  thee  ?  " 
363 


Sir  Christopher 

"He  thought  he  had  proof." 

"And  the  villain  who  traduced  thee  to  him  — " 

"Was  Dick  Ingle,  and  thou  dost  well  to  call 
him  villain.  'T  was  years  ago  in  England,  and 
we  have  met  but  twice  since  ;  but  I  know  the 
blood,  and  I  swear  to  thee  I  'd  rather  see  thee 
carried  out  of  this  room  in  thy  coffin  than  as  the 
bride  of  an  Ingle." 

"Yet  Ralph  —  " 

"  Oh,  I  know  he  hath  not  the  brutal  outside  of 
his  brother,  but,  Elinor,  I  count  him  falser  at  heart. 
You  don't  always  see  a  snake,  but  you  trace  his 
course  by  the  rippling  of  the  grass.  Something 
always  goes  wrong  when  Ralph  Ingle  is  about. 
Trust  him  not  with  thy  little  finger,  much  less 
thy  hand  in  marriage." 

"  Listen,  then,  Margaret,  and  thou  wilt  rejoice 
with  me  and  understand  the  better  my  lightness  of 
spirit  this  night  when  I  tell  thee  that  yester 
morning  Ralph  Ingle  renounced  me,  told  me  I 
was  too  cold  for  any  love  save  for  a  dead  man,  — 
God  help  me,  that  is  true,  —  then  suddenly,  as  if 
carried  beyond  his  own  control,  he  seized  me  in 
his  arms  and  kissed  me,  and  then  flung  through 
the  doorway.  At  the  door  he  turned  once 
more  and  said,  c  Elinor,  thy  day  of  grace  is 
ended ! ' 

"  I  was  much  angered  by  his  free  manner,  and 
I  answered,  — 

364 


Candlemas  Eve 

"  c  If  the  day  of  grace  be  the  day  of  thy  com 
pany,  the  sooner  ended  the  better.' 
"  c  I  am  going  away/  he  said. 
"  For    answer    I    but  courtesied,  with  a  great 
gladness  at  my  heart. 

ic  c  The  time  may  come  when  thou  wilt  beg  me 
to  wed  thee.' 

"  I  laughed. 

"'Till  that  time  comes  I  will  never  speak  of 
marriage  more,'  he  said.  Then  with  one  devour 
ing  glance,  he  bowed  low  and  left  the  house,  and 
Sheriff  Ellyson  told  me  to-day  that  he  saw  him 
with  three  men  making  down  the  river  in  a  pin 
nace.  Pray  Heaven,  he  is  gone  forever  ! " 

"  Ay,  pray  Heaven  ;  but  keep  thy  wits  at  work 
none  the  less,  and  never  believe  that  an  Ingle 
means  what  he  says.  They  say  only  what  they 
wish  thee  to  believe;  and  as  for  Ralph  Ingle 
giving  thee  up,  he  has  about  as  much  intention 
on  't  as  my  gray  cat,  that  withdraws  into  the  dark 
and  lets  her  victim  mouse  play  about  till  she 's 
ready  for  the  spring." 

"  Cousin,  thou  art  suspicious." 

"  Say  rather,  watchful." 

"  'T  is  all  one." 

"  Nay.  If  thou  art  watchful,  thou  mayst  find 
there  is  no  cause  for  suspicion." 

Elinor  sat  looking  at  the  woman  opposite  her. 
Dead  silence  fell  between  them,  till  at  last,  with  a 

365 


Sir  Christopher 

cry,  Elinor  threw   herself  on   her   knees  at  her 
cousin's  side. 

"  Love  me,  Margaret !  Try  to  love  me ! 
There  are  so  few  to  love  me  now!" 

It  was  as  if  the  cry  of  Elinor's  full  heart  broke 
down  the  barriers  that  had  somehow  raised  them 
selves  between  her  and  Margaret  Brent.  A  single 
word  had  laid  them  low,  never  to  rise  again. 

"  I  do  love  thee ;  I  do,"  whispered  Margaret, 
folding  her  arms  close  about  Elinor.  "  Poor 
child  !  Life  hath  been  a  hard  school  for  thee." 

"  And  I  an  unruly  scholar,"  murmured  Elinor, 
smiling  through  her  tears. 

"  Perchance  ;  most  of  us  are.  But  now  shalt 
thou  give  proof  of  thy  new-found  spirit  of  obedi 
ence  by  obeying  me,  and  getting  this  weary  body 
of  thine  into  bed.  Hark !  the  watchman  is 
crying  ten  of  the  clock." 

With  a  certain  joy  in  being  bidden  like  a  little 
child,  Elinor  rose  and  moved  to  her  chamber.  It 
is,  however,  one  thing  to  go  to  bed,  and  quite 
another  to  go  to  sleep.  Strive  as  she  would, 
she  could  not  shake  off  the  sombre  shadow  of 
Margaret's  words. 

At  last,  unable  to  rest  quiet  longer,  she  rose 
and  went  to  Cecil's  little  bed.  There  he  lay, 
flushed  and  rosy  in  sleep,  with  the  coverlid  thrust 
aside  and  revealing  the  firm  curves  of  a  sturdy 
leg. 

366 


Candlemas  Eve 

"  Thank  God  for  him  !"  murmured  his  mother, 
and  taking  down  a  vial  of  holy  water  she  sprinkled 
a  few  drops  on  the  golden  curls.  Then  from  the 
shelf  beneath  the  crucifix  she  took  down  a  little 
brown  book  with  worn  cover  and  dog's-eared 
corners.  Opening  at  random  her  eyes  fell  on 
these  words :  — 

"  Love  is  a  great  thing,  yea,  a  great  and  thor 
ough  good:  by  itself  it  makes  everything  that  is 
heavy  light,  and  it  bears  evenly  all  that  is  un 
even.  For  it  carries  a  burden  which  is  no  burden 
and  makes  everything  which  is  bitter  sweet  and 
savory." 

"  Heigh  ho  !  "  sighed  Elinor ;  but  she  read  on. 

"  Nothing  is  sweeter  than  love,  nothing  more 
courageous,  nothing  higher,  nothing  wider,  noth 
ing  more  pleasant,  nothing  fuller  nor  better  in 
heaven  and  earth." 

"  For  some,"  murmured  Elinor,  and  read  on. 

"  My  child,  thou  art  not  yet  a  courageous  lover. 
Because  for  a  slight  opposition  thou  givest  over 
thy  undertakings  and  too  eagerly  seekest  con 
solation.  A  courageous  lover  standeth  firm  in 
temptations  and  giveth  no  credit  to  the  crafty 
persuasions  of  the  enemy  —  " 

A  tear  slid  down  upon  the  hand  that  turned 
the  page.  Tears  are  crystallized  confession. 
Elinor  bowed  her  head. 

"  Alas!  Alas  !  How  the  words  pierce  to  my 
367 


Sir  Christopher 

heart's  core !  It  is  to  me  surely  that  they  were 
written.  What  a  coward  in  love  have  I  been ! 
How  ready  at  the  first  whisper  to  sink  from  faith 
into  doubt !  To  me  God  gave  such  chance  as 
falls  to  the  lot  of  few  women  to  hold  up  the 
hands  of  my  love,  and  the  chance  slipped  from 
me,  and  I  joined  the  ranks  of  them  that  doubted 
and  turned  aside. 

"  Is  it  too  late  now  to  repent  ?  No,  never 
too  late  for  that.  What  consolation,  what  joy, 
what  glory  to  feel  that  perhaps  ages  hence,  when 
I  have  worked  out  the  penance  my  sin  demands 
in  Purgatory,  I  may  rise  to  the  presence  of  the 
saints,  where,  for  all  the  churchmen  say,  God 
must  make  a  place  for  souls  like  Christopher's  ! 
Then  I  shall  look  into  his  eyes  and  he  will 
forgive  and  bless  me." 

The  thought  brought  comfort,  and  she  turned 
back  to  her  couch  with  a  calmer  mind.  As 
she  passed  the  window  she  heard  the  watchman 
calling  the  hour  of  midnight,  followed  by  the 
familiar  cry,  — 

"  From  fire  and  brand  and  hostile  hand 
God  save  our  town  ! ' ' 

For  some  time  she  stood  still,  watching,  with  a 
comfortable  sense  of  safety,  the  queer  figure  and 
the  twinkle  of  his  lantern  as  it  bobbed  up  and 
down  along  the  street. 

368 


Candlemas  Eve 

"  Elinor,  is  that  thou  ?  " 

"Ay,  Margaret." 

"  Now  art  thou  unruly,  indeed,  —  walking  the 
house  at  midnight  like  an  uneasy  ghost,  when  I 
bade  thee  go  to  bed  and  to  sleep.  To  bed,  I 
say,  this  instant !  " 

Elinor  smiled,  but  obeyed,  and  drawing  the 
coverlid  over  her  fell  into  a  light  slumber,  broken 
by  a  fitful  dream  in  which  the  world  seemed  to  be 
whirling  around,  and  Ralph  Ingle  was  pushing  it 
to  make  it  go  faster,  when  suddenly  Christopher 
Neville  appeared,  and  all  at  once  it  stopped  and 
she  could  hear  his  voice  bidding  her  be  of  good 
cheer  and  fear  nothing.  Then  came  the  uncon 
sciousness  of  deeper  sleep  ;  and  at  last,  out  of  that 
calm  there  swept  a  great  noise,  a  rush  of  feet  along 
the  quiet  street,  a  swinging  of  lanterns,  a  hurried 
knocking  at  the  door,  and  a  shout,  — 

"  Make  ready  all  within  !  Dick  Ingle  is  at  the 
gates!" 


369 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

"HEY  FOR  ST.  MARY'S,  AND  WIVES  FOR  us  ALL!" 

MORNING  was  streaking  the  black  of 
night  with    a    single    line  of  silver  as 
Richard  Ingle  dropped  anchor  in   St. 
Mary's  River  opposite  the  little  town  marked  by 
its  tall  rude  cross  and  its  sentinel  mulberry-tree 
on  the  edge  of  the  bluff.     Already  the  men  were 
lowering   boats  and  filling  them  with    muskets, 
powder,  and  shot,  and  strips  of  wood  soaked  in 
oil. 

As  Ingle  looked  upward  at  the  sleeping  village, 
his  heart  swelled  with  delight.  Let  no  one  fancy 
that  happiness  is  the  reward  of  virtue.  To  the 
good  there  can  be  little  individual  happiness  that 
does  not  carry  its  own  sting  in  the  thought  of 
the  cost  to  others  at  which  it  has  been  purchased, 
but  to  the  bad  man  life  is  simplified  to 

"  The  good  old  rule,  the  simple  plan, 
That  he  may  take  who  has  the  power, 
And  he  may  keep  who  can." 

Through  these  twelve  long  months  the  mem 
ory  of  the  indignity  thrust  upon  him  at  Brent's 

37° 


"  Hey  for  St.  Mary's !  " 

behest,  as  he  firmly  believed,  by  the  townspeople 
of  St.  Mary's,  had  rankled  in  his  memory.  This, 
combined  with  his  old  grudge  against  Margaret 
Brent,  drove  him  back  to  England.  This  kindled 
his  delight  at  finding  King  Charles  defeated  and 
Parliament  in  control.  This  was  always  in  mind 
when  he  represented  to  the  government  the  dan 
gerous  growth  of  Catholic  power  in  Maryland, 
and  this  the  crown  of  his  triumph  when  he  found 
himself  turning  the  prow  of  The  Reformation  west 
ward  once  more,  armed  with  letters  of  marque 
giving  him  license  to  attack  these  dangerous  mon 
archists  and  schismatics  and  harry  them  out  of 
the  land  if  he  could. 

"  Now,  my  friends,"  thought  he,  as  he  peered 
through  the  darkness  at  the  dim  outlines  of  the 
wharf,  "we'll  see  whose  turn  it  is  to  be  tossed 
aboard  a  vessel  like  a  sack  of  grain.  I  '11  settle 
my  score  with  you,  Sheriff  Ellyson,  and  with  you, 
Worshipful  Councillor  Neale.  As  for  you,  Giles 
Brent,  if  you  get  not  a  sword-thrust  from  my 
blade  that  will  make  you  carry  your  head  a  shade 
less  high,  my  name  is  not  Dick  Ingle." 

As  the  buccaneer  strode  up  and  down  the  deck 
nursing  his  hot  wrath,  he  came  to  where  Claiborne 
was  standing  in  talk  with  Ralph  Ingle,  who  had 
joined  his  brother  as  soon  as  the  secret  news 
reached  him  that  The  Reformation  lay  hid  among 
the  wooded  points  of  the  bay. 

371 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Now/'  said  Richard,  "  remember  that  I  am 
the  Captain  of  this  expedition  and  you  are  both 
to  take  the  word  from  me/' 

"Hm!  I  know  not,"  Claiborne  began  doubt 
fully. 

Richard  Ingle  bent  a  compelling  glance  upon 
him. 

"  Did  you  not  ask  my  help  ?  " 

"  Ay." 

"  Did  you  not  say  I  was  worth  any  twenty 
Virginians  in  this  expedition  ?  " 

"  Belike  I  did." 

"  Is  not  the  ammunition  of  my  providing?" 

"  Oh,  have  done  with  your  vain  boasting  !  " 

"  I  '11  have  done  with  boasting  when  you  have 
done  with  insubordination.  Do  you  or  do  you 
not  recognize  my  authority  ?  " 

"  On  your  ship,  yes,"  answered  Claiborne, 
flushing  ;  "  on  land  I  take  commands  from  no 
man.  I  am  answerable  to  the  authorities  of  Vir 
ginia  and  them  only." 

"And  I,"  said  Ralph,  "am  a  free  lance,  and 
will  thrust  where  I  see  fit.  Besides,  this  expedi 
tion  is  as  much  mine  as  thine." 

"  The  devil  take  the  fellow's  impudence ! " 
exclaimed  Richard.  "  Here  have  I  been  over 
seas  to  fetch  letters  of  marque,  and  pulled  mem 
bers  of  Parliament  this  way  and  that,  gathered 
a  crew,  begged,  borrowed,  and  stolen  money  to 

372 


"Hey  for  St.  Mary's!' 

buy  powder  and  shot,  and  now  you,  who  have 
stayed  in  the  lap  of  luxury  there  at  St.  Gabriel's, 
would  have  me  give  you  control." 

"  The  still  hog  sups  the  milk,"  answered 
Ralph,  coolly.  "  'T  was  I  kept  you  informed  of 
the  temper  of  the  colony,  of  Brent's  unreadiness 
for  attack ;  and  did  you  but  know  it  I  did  you  the 
greatest  favor  of  all  in  ridding  the  colony  of  the 
one  man  who  might  have  detected  your  plot  and 
made  some  head  against  us." 

Richard  Ingle  flushed  and  laid  his  hand  upon 
the  hilt  of  his  sword  ;  but  Claiborne,  foreseeing 
an  ill  beginning  if  the  invaders  fell  to  fighting 
among  themselves  before  they  were  fairly  landed, 
stepped  between  the  brothers  and  laid  a  hand  on 
the  shoulder  of  each  as  he  said,  — 

"  There  is  honor  enough  ahead  for  each  of 
you  and  for  me  too,  so  let  us  not  quarrel  over 
that.  Let  Dick  direct  his  crew,  while  I  lead  the 
Virginians  in  the  ship  behind  us,  and  you,  Ralph, 
shall  be  the  free  lance." 

The  words  were  timely.  Richard  put  up  his 
sword,  and  Ralph  smiled  again,  —  that  frank  smile 
that  had  won  its  way  to  Giles  Brent's  heart  and 
deceived  him  to  the  end. 

Claiborne  saw  his  advantage  and  pressed  it. 
"  First  of  all,"  he  said,  "  we  must  have  a  rally 
ing  cry  whereby  we  may  know  friend  from 
foe." 

373 


Sir  Christopher 

"The  cry  of  the  townsfolk  up  yonder  is  c  Hey 
for  St.  Mary's,  and  wives  for  us  all  ! ' " 

"  We  '11    make    it    true     by    taking    of    their 


wives." 


"  Ay,"  chuckled  Dick,  "  v/e  '11  make  hay  of  St. 
Mary's,  set  fire  to  the  rick,  and  then  off  to  sea 
again  with  wives  for  us  all  !  " 

"  A  merry  jest.  You  would  have  made  your 
fortune  as  a  clown,  Dick." 

"  The  trouble  is  I  have  your  fortune  to  make, 
too,  Ralph,  and  you  're  too  much  of  the  damned 
fine  gentleman  for  me,  and  find  my  ways  over 
rough." 

"  Keep  to  the  point,  my  friends,  keep  to  the 
point,"  interrupted  Claiborne.  "'Tis  a  rallying 
cry  we  want.  Now  what  say  you  to  c  God  and 
the  Parliament '  ?  " 

A  soft  voice  from  Richard  Ingle's  right  an 
swered,  "  Think  you  not  't  were  as  well  to  leave 
the  name  of  God  out  of  the  business?  Consid 
ering  the  nature  of  the  matter  in  hand,  is  it  not 
just  possible  that  He  might  take  offence  ?  " 

"  Faith,  I  believe  you  're  right  for  once,  Ralph ! " 
cried  Richard  Ingle,  with  a  certain  generosity,  not 
detecting  the  sarcasm  underlying  his  brother's 
words.  "  For  my  part,  I  think  that  cry  too 
tame.  I  would  like  better  £  The  devil  take  the 
Brents  ! '  or  <  To  Hell  with  the  Calverts  ! '  " 

"All  save  one!"  murmured  Ralph  under  his 
374 


«  Hey  for  St.  Mary's  1  " 

breath.     Aloud  he  said,  "  Let  <  Ingle  ! '  ^  be  our 
cry.     'T  is  short  and  sharp  and  sufficient." 

"  So  let  it  be  !  "  assented  Richard ;  "  but  were 
it  not  well  to  have  badges  on  the  arm  besides 
the  cry,  that  we  may  know  each  other  by  them 
when  the  growing  dawn  gives  light  enough  to 

see  ?  " 

"'Tis  a  good  thought,''  said  Claiborne. 
have  a  roll  of  green  cloth  which  can  be  swiftly 
torn  into  bands ;  but  I  know  not  if  't  is  enough 
to  go  round  among  so  many." 

"  I  will  be  answerable  for  mine  own,"  said 
Ralph  Ingle,  putting  his  hand  to  the  breast  of  his 
jerkin  and  drawing  out  a  green  ribbon  of  watered 

silk. 

"  See  what  a  fop  this  brother  of  mine  learned 
to  be  in  France.  His  very  points  must  be 
tagged  with  gold,  and,  on  my  life,  the  tags  are 
tipped  with  emerald  !  " 

"  Ay,"  said  Ralph,  coolly,  "  I  got  them  of  a 
French  Seigneur  without  his  permission,  and  they 
have  been  cursed  unlucky  so  far.  The  first  tag 
I  lost  in  the  forest  near  St.  Gabriel's  and  could 
never  find  again,  and  the  point  with  the  other 
tag  joined  to  it  was  stolen  by  a  Patuxent  brave 
while  I  was  on  a  mission,  —  the  sacrilegious 
savage!  Since  then  for  safe  keeping  I  have 
carried  this  in  the  inner  pocket  of  my  jerkin." 

"  Cease  talking  of  your  jewelled  points  and 
375 


Sir  Christopher 

make  haste/'  cried  Claiborne,  testily.  "  Speed  is 
the  main  thing.  To  be  discovered  is  to  be 
balked,  if  not  defeated." 

"  Push  off  there  in  the  first  boat  if  you  are 
ready!  Shall  I  go  in  her,  Captain  Ingle?  " 

"  Ay,  and  command  her  crew.  Wait  for  us  at 
the  shore,  and  we  '11  rush  the  stockade  together." 

"  But  how  to  mount  the  bluff?  " 

"  There  is  a  road,  and  I  suppose  it  was  made 
to  be  walked  on." 

"  Ay,  but  it  leads  to  the  strongest  fortified  of 
the  gates." 

"  You  are  a  monstrous  clever  man,  Master 
Claiborne;  but  for  all  that,  Dick  Ingle  knows 
more  tricks  than  ever  a  juggler  taught  you." 

"  That  means  I  am  to  have  no  confidences." 

Ingle  laid  his  red  finger  to  the  side  of  his  red 
der  nose. 

"  Are  you  Captain  or  I  ?  " 

"You  are  Captain  but  not  Pope;  I  suppose 
you  may  be  questioned." 

"  All  in  good  time,  Master  Claiborne ;  all 
in  good  time.  Yonder  on  the  strip  of  beach 
below  the  bluff  I  will  give  my  orders  and  divulge 
my  plans." 

"  Fend  off!  "  called  Claiborne,  sullenly,  to  the 
man  at  the  prow  of  the  small  boat,  and  seating 
himself  in  the  stern  he  pulled  his  cloak  close 
about  him,  muttering  to  himself, — 

376 


«  Hey  for  St.  Mary's ! ' 

"  Damn  the  fellow  !  I  begin  to  hate  him  worse 
than  Calvert." 

"  Dick,"  said  Ralph  Ingle  as  the  two  brothers 
were  left  alone  together,  "  what  treatment  might 
a  prisoner  look  for  if  brought  aboard  this 
ship?" 

"  Why,  all  the  difference  betwixt  a  swift  death 
and  a  slow  one." 

"  And  if  the  prisoner  were  a  woman  —  " 

"  Nay,  none  of  that  business,  Ralph  !  I  was 
but  jesting  when  I  spoke  of  carrying  off  the  vil 
lagers*  wives.  Remember,  we  take  our  commis 
sion  from  the  Roundheads,  who  do  faithfully 
believe  we  are  bent  on  promoting  the  Puritan  re 
ligion  in  this  part  of  the  world."  Here  Richard 
Ingle  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter,  but  his 
brother's  eyes  flashed. 

"  You  know  not  how  to  take  a  gentleman,"  he 
said. 

"Indeed,"  sneered  his  brother,  "have  a  few- 
months  in  the  Brent  household  turned  thee  into 
such  a  white-livered  fellow,  half  prude,  half  priest  ? 
Nay,  nay,"  seeing  his  brother's  sulky  looks;  "I 
meant  not  to  vex  thee,  though  'tis  a  damned  odd 
time  for  talking  of  such  matters ;  but  take  thy 
pleasure  as  thou  wilt,  only  now  make  ready  for 
the  prettiest  fight  thou  hast  seen  since  we  met 
the  pirates  off  Algiers." 

"  The  other  pirates,"  corrected  Ralph,  and 
377 


Sir  Christopher 

began  buckling  on  his  cutlass  and  feeling  for  his 
pistols. 

"  Come  on,  then,"  called  Richard,  lowering 
himself  over  the  ship's  side,  "  come  on,  men ; 
rally  to  the  cry  of  c  Ingle  !'  Never  mind  giving 
quarter,  and  set  the  torches  to  every  house  in 
St.  Mary's.  There  's  plunder  enough  for  us  all, 
and  then  up  sail  and  away  before  the  burghers 
know  who 's  struck  them." 

The  muffled  oars  sped  silently  through  the 
water ;  silently,  too,  the  keels  of  the  boats  slipped 
over  the  sand  of  the  beach.  With  unshod  feet, 
pistols  in  belts,  and  cutlass  in  hand,  the  men 
ranged  themselves  in  a  ragged  line,  and  before 
them,  Richard  Ingle  stood  in  a  theatrical  attitude, 
with  one  hand  on  his  hip,  the  other  waving  a 
sword. 

"  Are  you  ready  for  a  fight,  my  men  ?" 

"  Try  us  !  " 

"  Ready  to  make  a  bonfire  of  yonder  town  ?  " 

A  waving  torch  answered,  but  was  speedily 
extinguished  by  Ingle's  order. 

"  Ready  to  open  the  bung-holes  in  the  tavern 
barrels  ?  " 

"  Ay,  and  drink  the  spirit  as  it  runs." 

"Then  you're  the  men  for  Dick  Ingle.  Clai- 
borne,  how  many  have  you  in  your  command  ?  " 

"  Forty." 

"  Take  twenty,  and  climb  yonder  stairs.     There 

378 


«  Hey  for  St.  Mary's !  " 

is  a  gap  in  the  palisade  at  their  head.  Put  your 
men  through  it  single  file,  and  in  dead  silence. 
There  is  no  guard. 

"  Ralph  ! " 

"Ay." 

"  Do  you  take  the  other  twenty  and  follow  the 
longer  trail  leading  to  the  rear  of  the  town.  When 
our  approach  is  known,  the  rush  will  be  for  the 
river  gate.  That  leaves  your  gate  weak.  Beat 
it  down.  Once  in,  I  leave  you  to  your  work." 

"  Trust  me  !  " 

"  The  rest  of  you  follow  me.  Swift  and  still. 
That's  your  motto  till  we  burst  in  with  a  yell, 
and  surprise  our  friends.  The  guard  is  bribed, 
the  gate  unbarred.  Up  and  forward  !  " 

Forward  they  went  with  a  rush,  Ingle  well  in 
front,  —  up  the  hilly  road  at  a  double  quick  to 
the  very  shadow  of  the  palisade,  not  a  sound  giv 
ing  warning  of  their  approach. 

Suddenly  from  that  gray  picketed  line  of  logs 
broke  a  zigzag  streak  of  fire,  and  out  into  the 
stillness  boomed  the  sound  of  guns. 

"  We  are  betrayed  !  "  muttered  Claiborne,  turn 
ing  at  the  head  of  the  steps,  out  of  breath  with 
the  climb. 

"  Follow  me  !  "  cried  Richard  Ingle.  "  Twenty 
pounds  to  the  first  man  over  the  wall,  or  through 
the  gate!" 

"Ingle!  Ingle!"  the  cry  rose  from  all  sides, 
379 


Sir  Christopher 

as  the  men  rushed  after  their  leader  toward  the 
stockade.  Several  fell ;  but  the  others  closed  in 
and  rushed  on  the  faster. 

"  I  fear  they  're  too  many  for  us  !  "  muttered 
Giles  Brent,  as  he  peered  through  the  peep-hole 
of  the  gate.  "  If  we  could  have  had  the  news 
but  a  few  hours  earlier  !  Fire  at  the  tall  man 
with  the  green  cap,  Neville  !  —  and  there's  Ingle, 
the  same  swashbuckler  as  ever  !  But  he's  a  brave 
devil.  Gather  the  guard,  Neville.  Open  on 
them  with  the  culverin  ;  if  they  break  in  the  gate, 
give  them  clubbed  muskets:  Hey  for  St.  Marys, 
and  wives  for  us  all !  " 

No  man  who  took  part  in  that  morning's  fight 
ever  forgot  the  day.  Almost  every  fighter  had  his 
private  feud  to  avenge,  and  under  the  guise  of 
sustaining  his  colony,  slashed  and  hacked  for  St. 
Mary,  or  St.  Richard  Ingle,  and  broke  heads  in 
fine  style,  all  for  the  honor  of  the  Commonwealth 
or  the  Palatinate  in  general,  and  the  satisfaction 
of  James  and  John  and  Robert  in  particular. 

Oh,  but  it  was  a  fine  skirmish  !  and  when  the 
invaders,  despite  the  thunder  of  the  culverin,  broke 
in  the  iron-studded  gate  and  rushed  upon  the 
defenders,  the  fighting  took  on  still  more  interest. 
If  there  is  pleasure  in  knocking  over  your  enemy 
at  a  distance  with  a  cannon-ball,  it  is  as  nothing 
to  the  joy  of  felling  him  with  your  clubbed  musket, 
where  he  can  claim  no  foul,  no  better  armament, 

380 


«  Hey  for  St.  Mary's ! ' 

but  must  acknowledge  as  he  falls,  that  he  dies 
because  you  are  the  better  man,  and  surrender 
his  pride  before  he  gives  up  the  ghost. 

Who  would  not  throw  away  years  of  inglorious 
safety  to  know  the  mad  leap  of  the  blood  bounding 
along  his  veins  as  he  cut  and  thrust  and  parried 
in  the  rough  give  and  take  of  battle  ?  When 
the  Anglo-Saxon  forgets  that  stern  ecstasy,  his 
domination  of  the  earth  is  at  an  end. 

There  is,  however,  one  class  to  whom  the 
struggle  brings  little  of  this  exhilaration.  The 
non-combatants  bear  the  heart-breaking  anxieties 
of  the  combat  and  know  nothing  of  its  delights. 
Little  did  Elinor  Calvert  know  or  care  about  the 
effect  of  fighting  on  national  character  as  she  stood 
at  the  door  of  her  cottage  in  the  little  hamlet 
of  St.  Mary's,  holding  her  boy  by  the  hand.  Her 
heart  had  room  for  only  one  thought,  —  terror, 
—  not  so  much  for  herself  as  for  her  child. 
"  But  surely/'  she  thought,  "  none  could  be  so 
cruel  as  to  harm  him  !  "  and  she  looked  down 
on  his  yellow  curls  and  drew  him  closer,  and 
folded  her  cloak  about  him  as  though  that  feeble 
shelter  could  avail  anything  against  men  with 
hearts  of  steel  and  arms  of  iron.  Her  mind 
was  still  bewildered  with  the  suddenness  of  the 
excitement. 

"  Oh,  Mother  !  "  cried  Cecil,  anxious  to  be  a 
hero,  but  conscious  of  a  painful  sinking  at  the 

38- 


Sir  Christopher 


pit  of  his  stomach,  "  what  manner  of  man  is  this 
Ingle  ?  Will  he  have  horns  and  a  tail  like  the 
devil  ? " 

"  Fear  not,  Cecil,"  Margaret  Brent  answered. 
"  Dick  Ingle  has  cowered  before  me  ere  this. 
Let  him  face  me  now  if  he  dares.  He  has  lied 
about  me  to  the  man  I  loved,  he  has  done  his  best 
to  ruin  my  life,  but  he  has  never  yet  dared  to 
look  me  in  the  eye  since.  If  he  enters  the  town 
this  day,  he  and  I  will  have  it  out.  Elinor,  are 
there  fire-arms  in  the  house  ?  " 

"  Nay,  but  I  have  my  dagger  —  " 

"  Keep  it ;  thou  mayst  have  need  of  it.  Stay 
thou  here  with  the  child,  and  I  will  take  my 
pistol  and  go  to  the  gate.  Doubtless  Giles  will 
take  command  at  the  gate  next  the  river." 

"  Nay,  Margaret,  are  there  not  men  enough  ?  " 

"  Not  so  many  but  they  will  be  the  better  for 
one  woman." 

"  Thou  canst  not  fight  like  a  man." 

"  Perhaps  not,  —  I  have  not  yet  tried ;  but  at 
least  I  can  make  the  men  fight  better.  There 
was  never  soldier  yet  that  did  not  shoot  straighter 
and  strike  deeper  if  a  woman  were  looking  on. 
That 's  what  we  're  for,  Coz,  —  not  to  pit  our 
strength  against  men's,  but  to  double  theirs." 

cc  Margaret,  thy  courage  shames  me ;  I  will 
come  too.  At  least,  I  can  carry  powder  and 
water-buckets." 

382 


"Hey  for  St.  Mary's!" 

"  No ;  rather  make  ready  thine  house  here, 
for  I  know  Ingle  well  enough  to  be  sure  of  hot 
fighting  and  many  hurt.  We  shall  need  a  hos 
pital  and  a  nurse.  Tear  thy  linen  into  bandages, 
and  set  Cecil  to  preparing  lint  for  wounds.  Now, 
good-bye,  and  may  God  have  you  both  in  his 
keeping  till  we  meet  again  !  " 

As  the  door  closed  after  her,  Elinor  felt  that  a 
strong  presence  had  passed  out  and  she  shivered. 
Now  she  caught  the  sharp  clash  of  combat  at  the 
gate  and  the  rival  cries,  — 

"  Ingle  !  Ingle  !  Claiborne  and  Ingle  !  " 

Then,  louder  still,  — 

"  Hey  for  St.  Mary's,  and  wives  for  us  all  !  " 

Her  heart  failed  her  as  she  looked  at  Cecil,  and 
she  thought  of  the  powerful  arm  that  might  have 
been  near  to  protect  both  her  boy  and  her.  She 
breathed  a  deep  sigh. 

"  Mother,"  whispered  Cecil,  "  I  will  guard 
thee ;  do  not  fear !  "  But  he  crowded  closer 
against  her  skirt. 

"  Sweet  one,  't  is  for  thee  I  fear  most.  Run 
thou  within  and  hide  thyself  while  thou  canst." 

"  Mother !  "  cried  the  boy,  "I  am  a  Calvert. 
Dost  think  Cousin  Giles  would  ever  speak  with 
me  again  if  I  deserted  thee  ?  Why,  I  am  almost 
a  man.  See,  up  to  thy  shoulder  already.  I  can, 
at  least,  throw  a  stone ; "  and  he  picked  one  up 
from  the  road. 

383 


Sir  Christopher 

"We  can  at  least  die  together,"  Elinor  mur 
mured,  "  and  it  may  be  soon." 

"  But  perhaps  we  sha'n't  die,"  Cecil  whispered 
consolingly.  "  Thou  knowst  to-day  is  the  festi 
val  of  Candlemas.  I  remember,  when  we  were 
gathering  the  greens  and  taking  them  down  from 
the  chapel  last  night,  some  one  bade  me  see  that 
no  leaf  was  neglected,  for  as  many  as  I  left,  so 
many  goblins  should  I  see.  And  so  I  went  back 
and  picked  up  the  very  last,  and  then  Father 
White  blessed  two  great  candles  and  gave  them 
me  and  bade  me  burn  them  on  the  shrine  of  St. 
Michael,  because  he  was  my  patron  saint  and  I 
was  born  on  his  day." 

"  And  didst  thou  ?  " 

"  Ay,  Mother,  when  I  came  home  and  saw  the 
image  in  my  room,  —  thou  knowst  the  one  of  the 
saint,  with  his  foot  on  the  devil's  head,  —  I 
thought,  for  safety's  sake,  I  would  offer  one  to 
the  devil,  too,  for  who  knew  when  it  might  come 
his  turn  to  befriend  one.  Now  I  will  go  in  and 
light  the  candles,  and  I  will  pray  to  Michael  and 
beg  him  to  come  and  set  his  foot  on  Dick  Ingle's 
neck.  Ingle  must  look  a  deal  like  Lucifer  ;  and 
Michael  —  Mother,  dost  not  think  Michael  must 
look  rather  like  Master  Neville?" 

Elinor  started  as  if  a  bandage  had  been  torn 
from  some  hidden  wound.  She  gave  a  little 
gasp ;  but  the  nearer  trampling  of  feet  called 

384 


"Hey  for  St.  Mary's!" 

her  thoughts  back  to  the  pressing  needs  of  the 
present  moment.  In  truth,  they  were  urgent. 
Already  the  fighting  mob  was  surging  through 
highway  and  byway  lighted  by  the  glare  of  the 
burning  church.  They  fought,  not  like  an  army, 
but  in  little  detached  groups,  without  order  or 
leadership.  Here  the  enemy  gained  ground, 
here  the  townsfolk. 

What  was  this  the  men  were  bearing  to  her 
door  ?  Her  heart  sank  as  she  recognized  Giles 
Brent. 

"  Oh,  Giles  !    Cousin  !  —  art  thou  hurt  ?  " 

"  A  scratch,  —  a  mere  scratch,  on  my  honor ;  " 
but  he  whitened  as  he  spoke. 

"  Bear  him  in,"  said  Elinor  to  the  two  men 
on  whose  shoulders  he  was  leaning,  "  bear  him 
in,  and  I  will  make  a  bed  ready  for  him." 

As  she  watched  the  men  following  her  bid 
ding,  her  mind  leaped  back  to  the  last  time  she 
had  seen  Brent,  —  the  day  when  he  told  her  of 
Neville's  death,  and  when  she  had  sworn  never 
to  own  kinship  or  speak  with  him  again  till  he 
took  back  his  accusation.  cc  I  have  broken  my 
vow,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  God  forgive  me ! 
Yet  not  so  much  the  breaking  as  the  making." 

Then  she  turned  to  follow  him  in ;  but  as  she 
moved,  she  felt  her  wrist  grasped  from  behind, 
softly  but  with  the  irresistibleness  of  a  handcuff 
of  iron. 

25  385 


Sir  Christopher 

Looking  round,  she  caught  sight  of  a  sleeve  of 
russet  cloth  bound  about  with  a  green  ribbon 
with  gold  and  emerald  tags,  and  turning  she 
found  herself  face  to  face  with  Ralph  Ingle. 

Instinctively  she  struggled  to  free  herself,  then 
perceiving  that  her  strength  was  no  match  for  his, 
she  stood  still. 

"  I  am  thy  slave  still,"  he  whispered.  "  Give 
me  one  kind  word,  one  glance  to  kindle  hope  in 
my  heart,  and  my  sword  is  thine  for  offence  and 
defence.  Nay,  't  is  in  my  power  to  save  thy 
kinsman,  whom  I  have  just  seen  borne  in  at  thy 
door.  I  saw  him  fall  and  followed  his  bearers, 
sure  that  they  would  bring  him  here." 

"  'T  is  a  fair  return  thou  art  making  for  his 
hospitality." 

"  I  wonder  not  at  thy  surprise." 

"  Surprise  !  I  feel  none.  'T  is  what  I  should 
look  for  in  one  of  thy  name  and  race.  If  I  was 
once  deceived  in  thee,  I  know  thee  now  for  what 
thou  art." 

"  What  am  I  ?  " 

"  A  traitor." 

"  Harsh  words,  my  lady  I  Couldst  not  choose 
some  gentler  name  ?  " 

"Nay,  if  I  called  thee  aught  else,  't would  be 
murderer  2 

Ingle  turned  pale. 

"  By  what  token  ?  " 

386 


"  Hey  for  St.  Mary'.s ! ' 

"  By  that  Iscariot  badge  on  thine  arm." 

The  man  looked  down  in  bewilderment. 

"  Ay,  that  point  convicts  thee.  'T  is  as  though 
the  finger  of  the  Lord  were  laid  upon  that  em 
erald  tag,  and  His  voice  said,  c  Thou  art  the 
man.'  ' 

"Who  told  thee?" 

"  No  man  told  me ;  but  murder  will  out, 
though  the  deed  be  wrought  in  the  blackness  of 
midnight  and  the  body  of  the  victim  lie  hid  in 
the  shadows  of  the  forest." 

"  'T  is  false.  Thou  dost  but  babble  to  gain 
time." 

"  'T  is  true.  Thy  very  pallor  and  trembling 
proclaim  it  true.  Thou  didst  slay  an  unarmed 
man,  alone  and  unprotected  in  the  wilderness. 
Worse  than  that,  thy  victim  was  a  priest  of  Holy 
Church,  whose  very  garb  should  have  been  sacred 
to  thee." 

Ingle  reddened  and  spoke  more  sullenly. 

"  There  be  many  sins  heavier  than  the  taking 
off  of  a  Jesuit." 

"Ay,  there  be  heavier  sins.  Shall  I  name 
thee  one  ?  " 

"  An  it  please  thee." 

"  Then  I  count  it  a  heavier  sin  than  the  com 
mitting  of  a  crime  to  let  another  be  charged  with 
thy  deed,  and  still  baser  when  thou  thyself  dost 
egg  on  his  accusers.  Thou  Judas  I  " 

387 


Sir  Christopher 


Ingle's  look  darkened,  and  he  grasped  her 
wrist  still  more  firmly. 

"  Thou  hast  had  thy  say.  Now  I  will  have 
mine.  I  will  teach  thee  to  call  me  by  a  new 
name." 

Elinor's  lip  curled  with  scorn. 

"  Yes,"  he  went  on,  "  I  will  show  thee  what  I 
am,  and  first  of  all  I  am  thy  master." 

"  A  moment  since  thou  wert  my  slave." 

"  Ay,  both  slave  and  master  in  one ;  and  I  am 
come  to  take  thee  with  me  to  a  place  where  thou 
shalt  know  me  under  both  guises." 

"Never!" 

With  her  left  hand  Elinor  Calvert  pulled  a 
dagger  from  her  belt ;  but  before  she  had  time  to 
use  it,  Ingle  loosed  her  other  hand  and  seizing 
Cecil  cried,  cc  When  thou  wouldst  see  thy  boy 
again,  seek  the  world  through  for  Ralph  Ingle." 

He  was  gone  before  Elinor  could  utter  a  word  ; 
and  when  she  would  have  rushed  after  him  her 
limbs  seemed  made  of  lead,  her  outstretched  arms 
fell  nerveless  at  her  side,  her  knees  tottered  under 
her,  and  with  her  child's  shriek  of  terror  ringing 
in  her  ears,  his  pleading  eyes  still  straining  toward 
hers,  she  fell  to  earth  in  a  dead  swoon. 

As  she  fell,  Margaret  Brent  turned  the  corner 
of  the  street,  and  seeing  her  believed  her  wounded, 
and  rushed  toward  her  with  open  arms,  while  from 
the  other  side  Richard  Ingle  advanced,  brandish- 

388 


"Hey  for  St.  Mary's!' 

ing  a  pistol  in  one  hand  and  a  torch  in  the  other. 
He  and  Margaret  Brent  met  above  the  prostrate 
form. 

"  So  you  are  here,"  he  said ;  "  T  thought  you 
were  at  Kent  Fort,  and  I  meant  to  seek  you 
there.  I  killed  that  precious  brother  of  yours." 

Margaret  Brent  paid  no  more  heed  to  him 
than  if  he  had  been  a  fly  in  her  path.  She  knelt 
by  Elinor's  side,  and  finding  the  pulse  beating 
still  drew  a  breath  of  relief.  Once  more,  how 
ever,  she  bent  over  lower  still,  and  when  she  rose 
it  was  with  a  cocked  pistol,  which  she  pointed  full 
at  Ingle's  head. 

"  If  you  move  so  much  as  a  finger,  I  fire  !  " 

So  amazed  was  the  invader  that  he  made  no 
attempt  to  stir,  but  stood  looking  at  the  woman 
before  him  with  ashen  face  and  dropped  jaw. 

"  Dick  Ingle,"  said  Margaret,  still  with  pistol 
levelled,  "  you  have  pursued  me  for  years,  first 
with  your  unwelcome  love  and  then  with  malig 
nant  hate ;  you  have  lied  about  me  to  Thomas 
White ;  you  have  tried  to  ruin  my  life.  Now 
you  say  you  have  killed  my  brother.  Is  there 
any  reason  why  I  should  not  kill  you  ?  Nay,  do 
not  move  so  much  as  a  hair,  or  you  are  a  dead 
man.  I  know  how  to  shoot,  and  I  have  no  hesi 
tation  in  taking  life.  Answer  me.  Have  you 
not  deserved  death  at  my  hands  ?  " 

"  The  devil  take  my  soul !  —  I  have." 
389 


Sir  Christopher 

cc  I  like  you  for  owning  it.  I  like  you  for 
appealing  to  the  devil,  whom  you  love  and  serve, 
instead  of  to  God.  If  you  had  denied  your  devil 
tries,  I  swear  I  would  have  put  a  bullet  through 
your  heart.  As  it  is,  I  am  satisfied.  Go  ! " 

She  lowered  her  pistol  and  stood  looking  at  him, 
alone,  helpless,  unprotected.  So  he  had  seen  her 
in  imagination  many  times.  So  he  had  vowed 
he  would  have  no  mercy.  Now  she  had  shown 
mercy.  She  had  held  his  life  in  her  hand,  and 
had  spared  it.  This  was  the  worst  of  all  the 
wrongs  she  had  done  him.  The  thought  galled 
him  beyond  endurance.  Quick  as  lightning,  he 
raised  his  pistol  and  fired,  then  covered  his  eyes 
with  his  arm.  God  forgive  the  wretch!  He 
loved  this  woman  still. 

When  he  looked  again  the  vision  stood  there 
yet,  the  eyes  still  dominating  him,  a  cool  smile 
on  the  haughty  lips. 

"  Coward  !  "  was  all  she  said ;  but  it  was  enough. 
Ingle,  the  redoubtable,  the  terror  of  the  seas,  the 
conqueror  in  fifty  combats  with  desperate  men, 
turned  and  ran  as  though  the  fiends  were  after 
him.  The  groups  of  his  men  that  he  passed, 
seeing  a  sight  never  before  witnessed,  —  their 
leader  fleeing  with  a  look  of  terror  on  his  face, — 
joined  in  the  retreat  toward  the  steps  which  led 
down  the  bluff,  crying  as  they  went,  "  To  the 
ships!  to  the  ships  !  Ingle  !  Ingle  !  " 

390 


"Hey  for  St.  Mary's!" 

Cornwaleys,  who  had  hastily  gathered  a  band 
of  followers  from  neighboring  plantations,  came 
rushing  after  and  fancied  that  it  was  he  and  his 
men  who  had  routed  Ingle.  So  he  told  the  story 
afterward  at  the  tavern.  So  the  villagers  all 
believed. 

Only  Margaret  Brent  knew. 


39* 


P 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

THE    CALVERT    MOTTO 

"   w  ^TTT  me  down  !  Put  me  down  !  "  screamed 
Cecil. 

"  I  put  thee  down  ?   I  '11  see  thee  roasted 
first ! " 

"I  hate  thee!" 

"  Very  like  ;  but  wait,  thou  little  imp,  till  I 
have  thee  safe  in  the  ship  !  " 

"  In  St.  Michael's  name  !  "  cried  the  child,  and 
beat  Ralph  Ingle  lustily  about  the  head;  but 
Ingle  swept  down  his  chubby  arms  as  though 
they  had  been  gnats,  and  ran  on  toward  the  near 
est  gate. 

When  he  reached  the  Governor's  Spring,  he 
noticed  that  the  waters  ran  red  with  blood.  By 
its  margin  two  men  were  cutting  and  thrusting 
with  sword  and  cutlass,  while  a  third  with  hand 
clasped  to  his  throat  lay  along  the  curb,  his  head 
hanging  lifeless  over  the  water. 

"  Help,  Ralph  !  "  came  in  Claiborne's  voice 
from  the  group. 

392 


The  Calvert  Motto 

As  he  called  out  he  retreated  a  step,  that  he 
might  free  the  weapon  which  his  adversary  held 
engaged. 

His  opponent,  who  fought  with  his  back  to 
Ingle,  took  advantage  of  the  retreat,  and  making 
a  lunge  forward,  drove  his  sword  into  Claiborne's 
side,  crying  out,  — 

"Take  that  for  the  death  of  Philpotts  !" 

Claiborne  fell,  wounded. 

"  Wait  till  I  get  some  one  to  hold  this  wriggling 
brat,  and  I  'm  with  you." 

So  far  Ingle  had  gone  in  his  speech  when  the 
foeman  turned,  and  Ingle  saw  that  in  front  of  him 
which  made  his  cheek  blanch  and  his  heart  fail 
and  his  knees  totter  under  him,  for  there  stood  a 
dead  man  waving  a  sword  and  making  ready  for 
a  thrust  at  his  heart,  while  Cecil  shouted  aloud 
with  joy,  — 

"  Thir  Chrithtopher  !  help  !  help  !  He  is  tak 
ing  me  from  my  mother  ! " 

No  words  answered.  From  a  ghost  none 
were  to  be  looked  for;  but  the  steel  flashed  in  air, 
and  when  it  drew  back  it  left  a  trail  of  blood. 
Ingle  felt  a  quick  intolerable  pain  at  his  heart,  and 
the  arm  around  Cecil  slackened  its  hold  till  the 
child  dropped  to  the  ground. 

"  So  you  are  come  to  take  me  to  Hell,  are 
you  ? "  he  muttered  between  set  teeth,  then 
swayed,  reeled,  and  fell  to  earth  with  eyes  fixed. 

393 


Sir  Christopher 


Neville  stood  over  him  with  vengeance  in  his 
glance. 

"  Are  you  from  the  charnel-house  or  from 
Hell  itself?  "  asked  Ingle. 

"  Is  not  this  enough  like  Hell  ?  " 

"  Ah,  you  have  come  from  Hell,  and  know 
what  it  is  like.  Did  the  devil  tell  you  ?  I  meant 
to  thwart  Satan  himself  by  confessing  just  before 
I  died." 

"  If  you  have  a  confession  to  make,  best  be 
quick,  for  your  last  hour  is  come." 

"  A  priest !"  he  murmured,  for  years  of  indif 
ference  could  not  quite  obliterate  the  memory  of 
Pater  Nosters  lisped  at  his  mother's  knee ;  "  or 
no,  a  priest  would  be  harder  than  any,  they 
stick  so  close  by  one  another." 

cc  If  you  do  indeed  desire  to  free  your  soul  of 
a  confession,"  said  Neville,  touched  in  spite  of 
himself  by  the  look  of  death  on  Ingle's  face, 
"speak  to  me  and  in  the  presence  of  this  child 
whom  you  have  wronged." 

"  Do  you  think  I  could  so  escape  Hell  ? " 

"  'T  is  no  business  of  mine,"  answered  Neville  ; 
"  but  for  myself  I  'd  not  like  to  die  with  a  sin  on 
my  soul." 

"  No  business  of  yours  !  Then  —  the  —  devil 
—  did  —  not  —  tell  —  you." 

The  words  came  slower  now,  with  little  gasps 
between.  Suddenly  his  glazing  eye  brightened  a 

394 


The  Calvert  Motto 

little.  "A  priest!  a  priest!"  he  repeated.  Look 
ing  round,  Neville  saw  Father  White  passingupand 
down  rendering  help  and  solace  to  the  wounded. 
"  Run  and  fetch  him,  Cecil !  "  he  said. 

The  child  plucked  the  good  priest  by  the  cloak. 
"  Father,  come,  Father  !  "  he  said.  "  Ralph  Ingle 
hath  need  of  thee.  He  is  dying  and  would  fain 
confess." 

Father  White  dropped  the  cup  of  water  he  was 
carrying,  and  coming  to  the  side  of  the  dying  man 
knelt  beside  him. 

"  I  think,  after  all,  I  won't  tell,"  Ingle  whis 
pered.  "  Even  this  dead  man  had  not  heard  it, 
and  perhaps  the  devil  himself  has  caught  no 
word." 

"  Think  not  to  escape  so,"  said  the  priest ; 
"  the  moments  of  time  for  thee  are  short,  but  the 
years  of  eternity  are  long,  and  through  them  all 
comes  no  chance  such  as  lies  before  thee  now  to 
make  some  scant  atonement  by  confession,  and 
earn,  perhaps,  if  not  Heaven  at  least  Purgatory, 
in  place  of  Hell." 

"  Bah  !  "  said  Ralph  Ingle,  rousing  himself  to  a 
touch  of  his  old-time  boldness,  "  't  is  no  use 
to  strive  to  fright  me  with  your  ghostly  threats. 
Perhaps  the  devil  will  send  me  up  like  Master 
Neville  here  to  do  his  work  on  earth ;  that 
would  be  rare  sport,  to  cut  and  thrust  and  be 
beyond  the  power  of  wounds."  Here  his  head 

395 


Sir  Christopher 

sank,  and  for  a  moment  it  seemed  as  he  were 
gone,  then  the  eyes  opened  again  and  the  boyish 
smile  curved  his  lips. 

"  Besides,  't  is  no  such  great  matter  to  kill  a 
priest;  there  are  so  many  of  you,  you  know." 

"  So  it  was  you !  "  cried  Neville,  with  new 
interest  in  his  voice  and  stooping  he  wet  Ingle's 
lips  with  brandy  from  his  flask.  "  Now,"  he  said, 
"  if  you  have  the  least  spark  of  manhood  in  you, 
speak  out.  You  killed  Father  Mohl  ?  " 

Ralph  Ingle  moved  his  head  in  assent. 

"How?" 

"  Speak  !  "  exhorted  Father  White  ;  "  though 
thou  be  the  chief  of  sinners,  speak  and  trust  in 
the  mercy  of  the  Lord  who  died  to  save  such." 

"  But  I  'm  —  not  —  the  —  chief  —  of  —  sin 
ners —  'T  was  the  knife  did  it —  the  knife  in  the 
panther's  throat." 

"  You  found  it  ?  " 

A  nod. 

"  You  were  on  your  way  from  St.  Mary's  to 
St.  Gabriel's?" 

Nod. 

"What  for?" 

"  To  stay  with  Brent  —  I  promised  Dick." 

Father  White  spoke  low :  "  At  least  he  was 
true  to  some  one.  Remember  it,  O  Lord,  when 
thou  dost  count  up  the  sum  of  his  trans 


gressions  ! 


396 


The  Calvert  Motto 

"  Ay,  't  was  Dick  suggested  it,  so  he  and  I 
feigned  a  quarrel  before  the  gossips  on  the  deck, 
and  then  I  set  out  alone  —  More  brandy  —  I  can 
not  speak/' 

Again  Neville  knelt  beside  him  and  poured  the 
brandy  down  his  throat.  Under  the  stimulant 
Ingle  revived  and  moved  as  if  he  would  sit  up, 
but  Father  White  stayed  him. 

"  Waste  not  an  inch  of  thy  strength,"  he  said, 
lifting  his  head,  "  but  use  it  to  save  thy  soul. 
Didst  thou  quarrel  with  Father  Mohl  ?  " 

"Ay,  't  was  his  fault —  I  was  singing  a  tavern 
song  to  cheer  me,  when  I  met  old  shaven-crown 
—  Nay,  God  forgive  me,  the  holy  father  — 

"  c  Good  evening,'  says  I. 

" c  God  have  mercy  on  your  soul  ! '  saith  he. 

"'That's  between  Him  and  me,'  says  I,  and 
then  he  must  needs  answer  back  in  Latin  —  I 
had  borne  to  be  damned  in  English  and  never 
raised  a  finger ;  but  to  be  called  names  in  an 
outlandish  foreign  tongue  was  too  much  ! " 

"  Thou  art  sinning  away  the  hour  of  mercy," 
said  Father  White,  sternly ;  "  speak  of  thyself  and 
thy  crime." 

"  Ay,  but  I  want  God  to  know  why  I  did  it. 

" c  Hold  your  tongue,'  said  I. 

"c  Pax  tibi;  said  he,  near  as  I  could  catch. 

" c  Another  word,  and  I  '11  have  your  life  1 '  said 
I,  raising  the  knife. 

397 


Sir  Christopher 

"  c  Dominus  tecum  I '  he  answered,  out  of  spite, 
as  the  ugly,  ugly  smile  of  him  showed,  and  that 
finished  him. 

"  The  knife  came  down,  and  ere  I  could  pull  it 
out  I  heard  steps  near  by  and  did  run  for  my 
life  —  " 

"  Whither  didst  run  ?  " 

"  To  St.  Gabriel's  ;  and,  seeing  lights  still  up, 
I  would  fain  have  entered,  but  thought  better  of 
it,  and  rested  in  an  out-house  till  morning/' 

"  Traitor  !  "  exclaimed  Father  White,  "  was 
thy  conscience  so  dead  thou  didst  feel  no  pricks 
at  accepting  hospitality,  —  thou,  a  murderer  ?  " 

"Not  a  prick;  only  a  mighty  satisfaction  that 
the  devil  looks  so  well  after  his  own  —  or  —  hold 
—  art  thou  going  to  tell  all  this  to  God  ?  For 
then  I  must  say  it  all  different." 

"Speak  truth!  If  anything  could  save  thy 
guilty  soul,  't  were  that." 

"  Then  if  I  'm  damned  for  the  business,  I  '11 
own  that  I  was  glad  when  I  thought  myself  safe, 
glad  when  I  saw  this  man,  Neville,  accused,  glad 
when  I  saw  him  sink  in  the  river  yonder.  There, 
go  back  and  tell  that  to  the  devil,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Faith,  you  can  tell  him  soon  enough  your 
self,"  muttered  Neville,  as  he  watched  the  labor 
ing  heart  and  the  eye,  which  now  glazed  faster 
than  ever. 

"  Is  this  all  ?  " 

398 


The  Calvert  Motto 

It  was  Father  White  who  spoke.  Ingle  pointed 
to  Cecil,  opened  his  lips,  gasped  out,  "  Elinor  !  " 
and  fell  back  dead. 

Father  White  lifted  his  eyes  to  heaven,  praying  : 

<c  Judge  him  not  according  to  his  demerit,  but 
through  the  infinite  multitude  of  Thy  mercies, 
and  extend  Thy  grace  and  pardon  in  the  name 
of  Thy  dear  Son." 

When  he  rose  from  his  knees  he  turned  and 
would  have  clasped  Neville's  hand,  but  he  and 
Cecil  had  vanished  together  in  the  direction  of 
Mistress  Calvert's  cottage. 

"  Mother  must  be  dead,"  panted  Cecil,  as  they 
hurried  along ;  "  else  had  she  surely  followed 


me." 


A  deadly  fear  struck  on  Neville's  heart,  cold 
as  a  hailstone  on  an  opening  rose.  Had  he  so 
nearly  reached  the  goal  to  fail  at  last  ? 

"  Look  !  "  cried  Cecil.     "  There  she  is  !  " 

Neville  dropped  the  child's  hand  and  rushed 
forward  to  where  Elinor  lay  stretched,  corpse- 
like,  upon  the  ground,  Margaret  Brent  chafing 
her  cold  hands.  He  fell  upon  his  knees  beside 
her  and  rained  hot  kisses  on  the  cold  fingers. 

"  O  Death,"  he  muttered,  "  you  must  not, 
shall  not  cheat  me  now  !  Not  till  she  knows. 
Oh,  not  till  then !  " 

"  This  is  not  death,"  said  Margaret  Brent, 
"  but  a  heavy  swoon.  Hast  thou  brandy  ?  " 

399 


Sir  Christopher 

For  answer  Neville  pulled  his  flask  from  his 
jerkin,  poured  out  some  of  the  liquid  and  forced 
it  between  Elinor's  lips,  while  Margaret  ran  to 
the  Governor's  Spring  for  water,  taking  Cecil  with 
her  to  help  carry  the  ewer. 

Left  alone  thus  with  the  woman  he  loved,  the 
only  woman  he  had  ever  loved,  Neville  knelt  on, 
and  watched  and  waited,  —  waited  as  it  seemed  to 
him  for  hours,  though  in  reality  it  was  but  min 
utes,  to  catch  the  first  flicker  of  those  white  lids, 
the  first  tremulous  movement  of  those  chiselled 
nostrils. 

Two  minds  there  were  within  him  :  one  in 
tent  upon  that  still  form,  gazing  in  an  agony  of 
terror  upon  its  immobility ;  the  other  living  over 
the  past, —  that  past  which  for  him  began  and 
ended  with  Elinor. 

How  radiant  she  had  looked  at  St.  Gabriel's 
that  first  night,  when  he  came  in  out  of  the  cold 
and  darkness  and  saw  her  standing  like  a  god 
dess  of  sunshine  with  her  yellow  hair  gleaming 
above  her  green  robe  ! 

How  graciously  she  had  smiled  upon  him 
when  he  made  friends  with  Cecil  ;  how  tenderly 
she  had  looked  at  him  when  he  offered  to  seek 
Father  Mohl  and  beg  his  pardon  !  Here  came  a 
swift  pang  as  the  bitterness  of  those  dark  days 
that  followed  the  priest's  death  swept  over  him. 
His  lips  framed  the  word  "  Unjust ! "  Then 

400 


The  Galvert  Motto 

lifting  his  head  he  shook  back  the  hair,  and  look 
ing  up  cried  aloud,  — 

"  No,  though  it  were  with  my  last  breath,  and 
though  she  should  never  breathe  again,  I  vow  to 
God,  I  thank  Him  for  it  all,  justice  and  injus 
tice  alike,  else  had  I  never  known  how  she  loved 


me." 


Up  and  down  the  street  to  the  edge  of  the 
bluff  the  fight  still  raged  around  them,  as  one 
group  of  stragglers  met  another  of  the  opposing 
force.  None  could  say  which  had  lost  or  won. 

As  for  Neville,  he  had  no  care  for  what  passed 
around  him.  All  the  world  held  for  him  lay 
there  on  the  ground.  Oh,  God !  would  those 
dark-fringed  eyes  never  open  ?  Would  those 
pallid  lips  never  again  redden  to  their  old-time 
warmth,  nor  curve  into  their  old-time  tender  wist- 
fulness,  nor  open  in  the  old-time  gracious  speech  ? 

For  one  awful  moment,  Neville  felt  that  this 
was  indeed  the  end,  and  bowing  his  head  he  mur 
mured,  "  It  has —  been  —  worth  —  while  !  " 

The  first  sensation  Elinor  knew  after  her  fall 
was  a  rushing  of  water  over  face  and  neck,  a  gur 
gling  in  her  ears  and  a  gasping  as  of  some  dying 
animal  near  by,  then  a  curious  realization  that  the 
gasping  animal  was  herself,  and  that  a  sound  of 
voices  rang  far  and  vague  around  her.  Gradually 
through  her  closed  lids  gathered  a  dim  light  which, 
as  she  opened  her  eyes,  grew  to  a  glory  dazzling 
26  401 


Sir  Christopher 

as  though  it  streamed  from  the  great  white  Throne, 
and  shadowed  against  it  was  the  outline  of  a 
familiar  face,  long  dear  to  memory  and  of  late 
enshrined  in  her  heart  of  hearts,  —  the  face  of 
Christopher  Neville. 

"  So/'  she  murmured,  "  this  is  Heaven  that  lies 
beyond.  I  always  said  death  would  be  nothing 
if  we  could  be  sure  of  that." 

Then  the  black  curtain  fell  again,  and  the  next 
sound  that  struck  her  consciousness  was  Cecil's 
voice  calling,  — 

"Mother!  Mother!  Wake  up!  Dick  Ingle 
is  fled,  and  the  broidery  on  my  coat  is  torn, 
and  the  Church  of  Our  Lady  is  burned  to  the 
ground,  and  we  are  very  hungry,  and  there  is 
but  corn  meal  in  the  house  —  oh  !  and  Ralph 
Ingle-" 

"  Softly,  little  man,  softly  ! "  spoke  Neville's 
voice.  "  Run  into  the  house  and  fetch  pillows 
for  thy  mother's  head." 

Slowly  Elinor's  mind  awakened  to  the  scene 
around.  So  this,  after  all,  was  not  the  pale  reflec 
tion  of  earth  cast  upon  the  clouds  of  a  shadowy 
after-life,  but  Heaven  itself  come  down  to  earth. 
Love  and  life  lay  before,  not  behind.  Too  weary 
to  question  the  causes  of  the  miracle,  she  accepted 
it  and  thanked  God. 

"  My  dear !  "  she  said  simply,  raising  her  arms 
and  laying  them  about  Neville's  neck.  The 

402 


The  Calvert  Motto 

effort  of  speech  was  too  much  for  her  strength, 
and  she  fell  back  exhausted  and  so  white  that 
Neville  laid  his  hand  anxiously  upon  her  heart. 

"  Tell  me  all !  "  she  murmured. 

Neville  laughed,  a  natural  hearty  laugh,  for 
the  first  time  since  that  terrible  day  in  January. 
"So,"  he  said,  "'tis  curiosity  alone  can  prick 
thee  back  to  life.  Well,  thou  shalt  have  the 
story.  All  there  is  to  tell,  as  soon  as  thou  canst 
bear  it.  Now,  let  us  in."  And  raising  her  in 
his  arms  he  carried  her  to  the  settle  where  Cecil 
was  piling  the  cushions. 

As  she  sank  into  them,  she  laid  her  hand  on 
the  rebellious  curls  of  her  boy. 

"  Poor  baby  ! "  she  whispered. 

"  Baby  !  'T  is  no  baby  thou  hadst  thought  me, 
Mother,  hadst  thou  seen  me  wrestling  with 
Ralph  Ingle  ?  But  he  would  not  fight  fair,  and 
he  had  my  arms  pinioned  when  Thir  Chrithtopher 
met  us." 

"  So,  in  addition  to  all  my  other  debts,  't  is  to 
thee  I  owe  my  son,"  said  Elinor,  turning  with  a 
new  tenderness  in  her  eyes  to  Neville. 

"  Why,  in  a  fashion,  yes." 

"In  all  fashions,  Mother.  Why,  'twas  like 
this  —  " 

"Hush,  Cecil,  I  can  make  naught  of  thy  prattle. 
'T  is  too  fast  and  too  broken.  Prithee,  let  Sir 
Christopher  tell  me  the  whole  story." 

403 


Sir  Christopher 

"  Art  sure  thou  hast  strength  to  hear  it  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  have  not  strength  to  do  with 
out  it  longer.  Tell  me,  in  Heaven's  name, 
how  it  comes  that  thou  whom  all  men  counted 
dead  art  returned  alive  to  be  the  saving  of  us 
all." 

"  Thank  God,  I  was  in  time !  " 

"  But  how,  when,  where  ?  " 

"  Nay,  't  is  too  long  a  story,  and  thou  art  still 
too  weak." 

"  Not  I,"  said  Elinor  scornfully,  making  an 
effort  to  sit  up,  but  failing  pitifully  and  sinking 
back  again. 

"  There,  see,  thou  hast  no  more  strength  than 
I  when  I  fell  against  the  gate  of  St.  Mary's  last 
night,  and  they  pulled  me  in  like  a  log.  'T  was 
well  Philpotts  had  kept  his  breath  and  could  cry 
the  warning.  I  think  the  villagers  took  me  for  a 
ghost,  for  they  looked  at  me  with  dazed  eyes  and 
did  my  bidding  as  though  I  were  something  be 
yond  nature.  Sheriff  Ellyson  lent  me  his  sword. 
I  owe  him  much  thanks,  else  had  we  not  this 
valiant  little  warrior  with  us  now." 

Elinor  shivered  and  clasped  Cecil  close  about 
the  shoulders.  "  Go  on,  go  on  !  "  she  whispered 
breathlessly. 

"  All  hands  were  ordered  to  the  guns  at  the 
gates.  I  worked  side  by  side  with  Giles  Brent, 
he,  too,  half  shrinking  from  me,  half  drawn 

404 


The  Calvert  Motto 

toward  me  as  if  I  were  a  messenger  from  another 
world.  When  he  fell,  two  men  picked  him 
up  and  one  asked,  c  Whither  shall  we  carry 
him  ? ' 

"  cTo  Mistress  Calvert's  home/  said  the  other. 

"  c  Mistress  Elinor  Calvert  ? '  I  asked,  my  knees 
shaking  under  me. 

"  c  Ay/  said  the  soldier, c  she  and  her  boy  have 
been  settled  here  since  February.  She  is  in  the 
second  house  beyond  the  Church  of  Our  Lady/ 
Oh,  Elinor,  may  you  never  know  the  anguish 
that  thought  cost  me !  If  I  had  fought  like  a 
man  before,  I  fought  like  a  devil  then,  but  we 
had  not  ammunition  enough  for  our  guns.  The 
time  was  too  short  for  bringing  it  from  tHe  pow 
der-house,  and  they  burst  in  at  the  weakest  gate? 
the  one  furthest  from  mine,  and  then  my  only 
thought  was  to  get  to  thee  and  die  fighting  at  thy 
side.  No,  that's  not  true  neither,  for  I  thought 
little  of  dying  :  my  blood  was  up,  and  I  was 
bent  on  trying  how  many  of  the  rascally  invaders 
I  could  put  an  end  to. 

"  I  started  from  the  gate  on  a  dead  run,  and 
before  I  had  gone  a  hundred  paces  I  found  old 
Philpotts  by  my  side.  Hard  by  the  Governor's 
Spring  we  met  Claiborne  with  a  gang  of  marau 
ders,  armed  with  cutlasses.  One  of  them  made 
at  Philpotts  and  ran  him  through  the  throat,  so 
the  poor  fellow  fell  without  a  groan,  and  the 

405 


Sir  Christopher 


blood  of  his  faithful  heart  flowed  out  into  the 
spring.  Heaven  rest  his  soul  !  for  truer  friend 
man  never  had/' 

"Andthou?" 

"  Faith,  't  was  like  to  have  fared  no  better  with 
me  ;  but  that  Neale  and  Ellyson  and  their  fol 
lowing  let  drive  at  the  invaders  and  drove  them 
off,  following  them  to  keep  them  on  the  run. 
Only  Claiborne  stood  his  ground.  Just  as  my 
sword  touched  him  in  the  side,  I  heard  him  cry, 
c  Help,  Ralph  ! '  and  turning  I  found  myself  face 
to  face  with  Ingle,  carrying  Cecil  in  his  arms ; 
the  poor  child  was  screaming  lustily." 

"  And  fighting,  Thir  Chrithtopher.  Say  now, 
was  I  not  scratching  and  biting  valiantly  ? " 

"  That  he  was,  and  hath  a  handful  of  the  pirate's 
hair  as  a  keepsake.  Just  then  Ingle  caught  sight 
of  me,  and  't  was  as  if  he  saw  the  Day  of  Judg 
ment.  c  So  you  're  come  to  take  me  to  Hell,  are 
you  ? '  he  said.  With  that  he  dropped  Cecil,  and 
ran  at  me  with  his  cutlass,  having  no  time  to 
draw  pistol.  'T  was  scarce  a  fair  fight,  for  I 
verily  believe  had  he  not  been  mastered  by 
ghostly  fear  he  would  have  finished  me." 

"  Thank  God  for  the  deliverance  !  " 

"  Ay,  and  for  a  greater  mercy  than  life.  The 
wretch  did  make  confession  to  Father  White,  and 
of  what,  thinkst  thou  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Mother,"  cried  Cecil,  unable  to  curb  his 
406 


The  Calvert  Motto 

impatience  another  moment,  "  it  was  be  who 
killed  Father  Mohl." 

"  I  know." 

"  Thou  knowest  ?  In  God's  name,  how  didst 
thou  know  ?  "  Neville  exclaimed. 

"  The  emerald  tag." 

Margaret  Brent  had  entered  unperceived,  and 
now  her  questioning  eyes  said,  "Who  wore 

it?" 

"  Ralph  Ingle,  to-day,  on  his  left  arm,  as  if 
it  were  a  badge  to  be  proud  of,  —  he,  the  man 
whose  presence  I  tolerated,  whose  hateful  love- 
making  I  permitted.  Oh,  Christopher,  canst 
thou  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  Forgive  ?     Dearest,  /  love  thee  I  " 

"  And  canst  thou  forgive  one  who  cannot  lay 
claim  to  that  mantle  of  love  that  covers  all  sins  ?  " 

It  was  the  voice  of  Giles  Brent,  who  had  stag 
gered  to  the  door  and  stood  leaning  against  the 
post,  a  new  expression  of  humility  on  his  proud 

face. 

"  Sir  Christopher  Neville,"  he  went  on,  "  I 
have  been  hopelessly  wrong,  honestly  but  fatally 
wrong,  and  I  do  most  earnestly  entreat  you  who 
have  been  so  deeply  injured  to  believe  in  the 
depth  of  my  grief  and  repentance." 

"  You  had  every  reason  —  "  began  Christopher. 

"  Ay,  but  of  what  use  are  faith  and  friendship 
but  to  warm  the  fires  about  reason  when  she 

407 


Sir  Christopher 

grows  too  cold.  To  my  life's  end  I  must  bear 
the  bitter  thought  of  my  injustice,  but  I  pray 
God  the  lesson  may  not  be  lost.  See,  here  is 
my  sword,  a  present  from  Baltimore  !  If  you 
can  find  it  in  your  heart  to  forgive,  accept  this 
and  wear  it." 

With  his  unwounded  arm  Brent  drew  the  sword 
with  difficulty  from  its  scabbard,  and  extended  it 
towards  Neville.  It  was  a  symbol  of  surrender. 
Neville  took  it,  and  seizing  Brent's  hand  he 
raised  the  hilt  of  the  sword,  exclaiming,  "  By 
this  token  I  swear  fealty  to  my  lady,  and  to  all 
her  kindred  !  " 

"  Elinor,"  said  Brent,  "  this  Neville  is  a  worthy 
gentleman,  and  thou  hast  made  no  mistake  in 
giving  thy  heart  into  his  keeping." 

Cl  Amen,"  said  Margaret  Brent. 

"Ah,"  said  Elinor,  jealously,  turning  swiftly 
toward  Margaret,  "  thou  didst  never  doubt  him ; 
thou  canst  afford  to  be  proud." 

Margaret  Brent  smiled.  "  No  storm,"  she 
said,  "  no  rainbow ;  no  trial,  no  faith ;  no  faith,  no 
love." 

"  Mother,"  broke  in  Cecil,  "  wilt  thou  wed 
Thir  Chrithtopher  ?  " 

"If  he  condescend  to  ask  me  again,  I  surely 
will." 

"Thir  Chrithtopher!  You  do  mean  to  ask 
her  again  ? " 

408 


The  Calvert  Motto 

"  Perhaps,  some  day." 

"  Couldst  not  make  thy  decidence  now  ?  " 

"  Why  dost  thou  seek  to  hurry  me  so  ?  Mar 
riage  is  a  serious  matter,  and  who  knows  but  I 
might  regret  any  undue  haste  !  " 

"  Nay,  now  art  thou  in  jest  and  I  in  earnest, 
for  we  were  to  have  the  feast  of  Candlemas 
to-night,  and  there  are  not  candles  enough  to 
go  round ;  but  if  you  and  Mother  are  to  be 
one—" 

"  I  do  take  your  meaning ,  —  then  one  candle 
will  do  for  both." 

"'Xactly." 

"  In  that  case,  I  must  waive  all  scruples,  and 
I  do  here  commit  myself  to  a  solemn  promise 
to  ask  Mistress  Calvert  to  marry  me ;  and, 
Cecil,  I  am  fain  to  ask  thee  for  a  betrothal 
gift." 

"I  know,  —  the  Calvert  seal." 

"  Nay,  I  have  no  use  for  the  seal,  Cecil,  though 
its  motto  stood  by  me  well  in  the  dark  days  last 
winter.  Yes,  Elinor,  I  said  them  over  to  myself 
many  a  time  there  in  the  tobacco-house,  — '  Fatti 
Maschij  :  Parole  Femine,  —  Deeds  for  men ;  words 
for  women/  They  may  not  be  read  so  in 
the  bastard  Italian,  but  so  they  were  writ  in  my 
heart,  and  I  said,  c  After  all,  'tis  my  life  must 
speak  for  me.  If  that  condemns  me,  protests  are 
vain  ;  if  that  acquits  me,  who  in  the  end  shall  be 

409 


Sir  Christopher 


able  to  stand  against  me  ? '  But,  Cecil,  there  is 
still  something  1  did  once  decline  like  a  churl 
when  thou  didst  offer  it,  and  have  longed  for  in 
secret  ever  since/' 

"  Oh,  you  mean  Mother's  picture  ;  why,  of 
course  you  may  have  it,  and  mine  too,  which  has 
larger  pearls  round  it,  —  may  he  not,  Mother?" 

"  Cecil,  what  is  ours  is  his." 

"  And  better  still,  what  is  his  must  be  ours,  so  I 
shall  have  the  bow  and  arrows  without  asking.  We 
will  have  our  feast  to-night,  and  we  will  set  out  all 
the  candles  in  the  house  and  deck  the  table  with 
flowers  of  purification  and  the  bowl  of  punch  and 
the  seed-cakes." 

"  Ave  Maria  Purificante ! "  quoth  Father 
White,  who  had  entered  unperceived  at  the 
open  door.  "  Sir  Christopher,  you  have  borne 
yourself  nobly  under  the  shadow  of  a  great 
tragedy." 

"  Tragedy  !  Nay,  the  story  with  a  happy  end 
ing  is  not  such.  My  life  is  no  tragedy." 

And  Christopher  Neville  spoke  truth,  for  the 
only  real  tragedy  is  the  degeneration  of  the  soul 
under  misfortune,  and  the  only  real  misfortune  is 
that  which  dominates  character. 

"Hurrah  for  Candlemas  Day,  raid  and  all!" 
cried  Cecil. 

From  the  street  came  an  echoing  cry,  — 
"Hey  for  St.  Mary's,  and  Wives  for  us  all !  " 
410 


The  Calvert  Motto 

As  for  Christopher,  he  knelt  beside  Elinor,  and 
putting  his  arms  about  her  close  he  whispered, 
"  Now  I  have  thee  for  always.  Fate  itself  could 
not  separate  us.  So  thou  must  e'en  make  the 
best  of  a  poor  bargain,  and  take  me  for  a  life 
tenant  of  Robin  Hood's  Barn." 


THE    END. 


411 


THE     H  E  A  D    of 
A      HUNDRED 

In  the  Colony  of  Virginia,  1622 

By  MAUD  WILDER  GOODWIN,  author  of  " Sir 
Christopher,"  "White  Aprons,"  "The  Colonial 
Cavalier,"  "Flint,"  etc.  Illustrated  edition.  With 
colored  miniature  and  five  full-page  pictures  by  JESSIE 
WILLCOX  SMITH,  WILFRED  S.  LUKENS,  SOPHIE  B.  STEEL, 
and  CHARLOTTE  HARDING.  izmo.  Decorated  Cloth. 
$1.50. 

Although  this  stirring  colonial  romance  was  written  in 
1895,  its  scene,  its  chief  historical  incident  and  several  of  its 
historical  characters  are  the  same  as  those  of  Miss  Johnston's 
popular  book,  "  To  Have  and  to  Hold."  The  heroine,  Betty 
Romney,  comes  to  the  shores  of  Virginia  in  the  first  shipload 
of  wives  to  escape  a  titled  marriage  with  a  man  she  hates,  chosen 
by  her  father.  Among  the  historical  personages  who  figure  in 
"  The  Head  of  a  Hundred"  are  John  Pory,  John  Rolfe,  and 
George  Thorp.  "The  climax  of  the  story,"  says  a  writer  in 
the  Ne<w  York  Times,  "  is  the  same  in  both  books,  the  bloody 
Indian  uprising  of  the  period  in  which  both  heroes  distinguish 
themselves.'" 

This  new  illustrated  edition  of  Mrs.  Goodwin's  charming 
companion  romance  to  her  delightful  and  highly  successful  story, 
"  White  Aprons,"  is  printed  from  a  new  set  of  plates  and 
well  illustrated,  and  presents  in  attractive  form  a  book  that 
since  its  first  publication  has  found  thousands  of  readers. 
"The  Head  of  a  Hundred"  has  met  with  favor  both  as  an 
accurate  picture  of  the  early  days  of  Virginia,  and  as  a  fresh 
and  entertaining  romance. 

LITTLE,    BROWN,    AND     COMPANY 
Publishers     •     254  Washington  Street,  Boston 


THE   HEAD  of  a  HUNDRED 

PRESS     OPINIONS 

One  of  the  best  works  of  its  class.  —  The  Mail  and  Express. 

Well  deserves  its  popularity.  —  Detroit  Free  Press. 

She  has  indeed  added  a  valuable  page  to  the  literature  of  Virginia. 
The  story  goes  with  a  rush  from  start  to  finish.  —  San  Francisco  Bulletin. 

Holds  its  reader  fast  from  the  first  page  to  the  end.  —  The 
Independent. 

A  story  of  love  and  adventure  delightfully  told.  —  New  England 
Magazine. 

Worthy  to  rank  with  the  best  romantic  fiction  of  the  year,  at  home 
and  abroad.  —  New  York  World. 

The  atmosphere  and  spirit  of  the  Colonial  period  are  skilfully  depicted. 
—  The  Indianapolis  Journal. 

Mrs.  Goodwin's  style  is  cultivated  and  charming,  and  in  her  chron 
icles  of  Virginia  she  is  giving  a  new  value  to  history.  —  The  Book  Buyer. 

A  book  that  ought  to  be  in  every  Virginia  library.  .  .  A  charming 
attempt  to  reproduce  early  Virginia  colonial  life.  —  Richmond  Despatch. 

The  book  is  sweet  and  true,  and  charming  for  its  sweetness  and  truth. 
We  have  read  it  with  a  delight  not  commonly  felt  in  these  times.  —  New 
York  Times. 

An  exceptionally  graceful  piece  of  work  —  a  love-story  told  with  feel 
ing  and  insight,  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  its  period,  and  made  quaint  by 
effective  touches  of  archaism.  —  The  Dial. 

It  is  as  sweet  and  pure  a  piece  of  fiction  as  we  have  read  for  many  a 
day,  breathing,  as  it  does,  the  same  noble  air,  the  lofty  tone,  and  the 
wholesome  sentiment  of  "Lorna  Doone."  —  The  Bookman. 

A  book  of  a  thousand.  One  of  those  strong,  sweet  stories  that  enter 
tain  and  refresh  the  reader.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  commend  such  a  book  as 
this,  and  it  will  give  pleasure  to  all  who  read  it. "  —  Boston  Journal. 

The  book  is  written  in  a  fresh,  charming  style,  and  is  not  overbur 
dened  with  pictures  of  "Colonial  life,"  as  are  so  many  chronological 
stories.  Anything  so  wholesome  and  so  old-fashioned  in  the  simplicity  of 
its  story-telling  is  gratifying  and  refreshing.  —  Springfield  Republican. 

Has  studied  the  records  of  early  Southern  history  until  she  is  able  to 
reproduce  the  characters  and  the  times  in  which  they  lived  with  great 
fidelity.  .  .  .  One  seems  to  be  transported  to  those  early  days,  when  the 
ripe  civilization  of  England  was  so  rudely  transplanted  to  the  primeval  forest. 
One  understands  better  the  people  who  grew  from  such  conditions,  after 
reading  this  story,  than  if  a  dozen  histories  were  conned.  —  Minneapolis 
Tribune. 


LITTLE,    BROWN,    AND     COMPANY 

Publishers     •     254  Washington  Street,  Boston 


WHITE    APRONS 

A  Romance  of  Bacon's  Rebellion,  Virginia,  i6j6 

By  MAUD  WILDER  GOODWIN,  author  of  "  The 
Head  of  a  Hundred,"  etc.  New  Illustrated  Edition, 
from  new  type.  I  zmo.  Decorated  cloth.  $1.50. 

The  Scene  is  in  part  Virginia,  and  in  part  the  Court  of 
Charles  the  Second.  The  historical  basis  of  the  romance  is  the 
episode  known  as  "  Bacon's  Rebellion,"  but  the  author  has 
woven  into  it  a  charming  love  story,  and  given  to  the  whole 
narrative  much  dramatic  interest. 

A  charming  story.  ...  Its  fidelity  to  the  conditions  prevailing  in  the 
Virginia  colony  at  the  time  is  carefully  sustained. — The  Review  of  Reviews. 

It  is  no  less  a  success  as  a  literary  monument  than  as  a  piece  of  most 
entertaining  fiction.  .  Its  love  notes  are  pure  and  sweet,  and  withal  inspir 
ing.  Almost  any  scene  picked  out  at  random  is  a  quotable  instance  of 
genuine  ability. —  Boston  Herald. 

As  sweet  and  pure  a  bit  of  fiction  as  often  comes  in  the  reader's  way. 

—  Detroit  Free  Press. 

A  beautiful  little  story,  sweet  and  inspiring,  not  less  clever  than  true. 

—  Necw  York  Times. 

Mrs.  Goodwin  invests  her  romance  with  a  crispness  and  freshness  that 
set  it  far  above  the  ordinary  novel,  wherein  facts  and  fiction  are  thrown 
together.  —  Chicago  Post. 

FT     T  XI  TT   Ey  MAUD  WILDER  GOODWIN. 
1     ^  L  L^     A      i6mo.      Decorated  cloth.      $1.25. 

Mrs.  Goodwin  is  at  her  best  in  dialogue,  and  some  very  spirited  con 
versations  are  distributed  through  the  book.  —  Pro-vidence  Journal. 

The  story  abounds  in  bright,  almost  epigrammatic  sayings  and  spark 
ling  flashes  of  merriment  and  wit,  and  altogether  is  as  sweet  and  pure  a 
piece  of  fiction  as  we  have  seen  for  many  a  dav.  —  Detroit  Free  Press. 

Miss  Wilkins  herself  could  not  ha^e  drawn  the  inn-keeper  and 
"general  grocer"  Marsden  more  truthfully  or  artistically.  Winifred  is  a 
lovely  creation  —  as  charming  a  piec«  of  womankind  as  we  have  encount 
ered  for  some  time.  —  Buffalo  Commercial. 

A  quick,  sympathetic  study  of  human  nature  and  those  bonds  of  inter 
est  which  unite  human  souls.  —  Boston  Herald. 

Sententious,  witty  sayings  appear  on  almost  every  page. —  Chicago 
Journal. 

LITTLE,    BROWN,    AND    COMPANY 

Publishers    •    254  Washington   Street,    Boston 


Romances  of  Colonial  Virginia 

By  MAUD  WILDER   GOODWIN. 

Illustrated    Holiday    Edition.      2  vols.      i6mo. 
Cloth,  extra,  gilt  tops,  put  up  in  neat  box,  $3.00. 

I.  The   Head   of  a   Hundred,    in   the    Colony 
of  Virgina,  1622 

By  MAUD  WILDER  GOODWIN.  Illustrated  with  five  full- 
page  photogravure  plates  from  drawings  by  Jessie  Willcox 
Smith,  Sophie  B.  Steel,  Charlotte  Harding,  and  Win- 
field  S.  Lukens  ;  four  decorative  headings  by  Clyde  O. 
De  Land  ;  and  an  ornamental  titlepage  by  K.  Pyle. 

II.  White  Aprons 

A  Romance  of  Bacon's  Rebellion,  Virginia,  1676.  By 
MAUD  WILDER  GOODWIN.  Illustrated  with  five  full-page 
photogravure  plates  from  drawings  by  A.  McMakin, 
Clyde  O.  De  Land,  L.  R.  Dougherty,  Margaret  F.  Winner, 
and  Violet  Oakley  ;  four  decorative  headings  by  Clyde 
O.  De  Land  ;  and  an  ornamental  titlepage  by  K.  Pyle. 

The  Colonial  Cavalier 

Or,  Southern  Life  Before  the  Revolution 

By  MAUD  WILDER  GOODWIN.      New  edition,  with  notes. 

With   numerous    full-page    and   smaller    illustrations  by 

Harry  Edwards.      I  2mo.      Cloth,  extra,  gilt  top,  $2.00. 

Full  crushed  morocco,  gilt  edges,  $4.50. 

This  thoughtful  and  most  suggestive  and  entertaining  study 
of  the  domestic  and  social  life  of  the  early  settlers  of  Virginia 
and  Maryland  has  received  the  highest  praise. 

It  gives  us,  through  the  old-time  gossip  of  letters  and  diaries,  and  the 
homely  details  of  life  and  customs,  a  Jireside  intimacy  'with  old  Virginian 
and  Maryland  life  which  -we  have  never  haj  before.  —  New  York  Even 
ing  Post. 

A  delightful  sketch  of  the  colonial  cavalier  in  his  home,  church,  state, 
and  social  relations.  We  are  made  acquainted  with  the  whole  man.  — 
The  Outlook. 

LITTLE,     BROWN,     AND     COMPANY 
Publishers     •   254  Washington  Street,   Boston 


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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


